


Leave Me Your Starlight

by Shamera



Category: Code Geass
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Secrets, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I haven't even read it yet I'm sorry, Introspection, NaNoWriMo 2018, Time Travel Fix-It, may be rewritten later after edits
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-03-20
Packaged: 2019-09-12 14:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 173,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16874709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamera/pseuds/Shamera
Summary: Five years after Zero Requiem, everything should be perfect for Nunnally. As the beloved Empress of a peaceful world now dedicated to the pursuits of medical advances rather than war, respected and popular, how could she ask for more? But after finding C.C. once more, she can't help but ask the witch for one more thing: Geass, the power of kings.No one will talk to her about her late brother, and five years without an outlet did not diminish her grief. If the only way to understand his actions was through a self-destructive path, then that would be the path Nunnally chose.





	1. Finding the Witch

**Author's Note:**

> I never did understand how Schneizel could get Nunnally to turn on Lelouch, 'trying to save him' or not. There was just a lot we were missing from her perspective after being taken in by the empire again, and then I read some translations of the novel talking about how mean Nunnally was to Suzaku after she was taken back by the empire, and all I could think of was: bet she's a lot more like her brother than anyone wants to admit! 
> 
> So I started this story for NaNoWriMo. As such, there's a lot of parts where I just didn't know what to write and had to force some words out, and at the end of the month wasn't sure if I ever even wanted another pair of eyes to see this story, LOL. I'm currently about 125k in, and I still don't know what's going to happen, only what I want to resolve by the end. It was one of those things I figured I wanted to finish and then revise before letting into the light of day, but it's Lelouch's birthday and some very encouraging friends said the worst that could happen is that I take it down again later, so here it is. Chapter 1, at least. A story that picks up around chapter 10, LOL.
> 
> Happy birthday, Lelouch! Ten years later, and you are still one of my favourite characters, you smarmy bastard.

“How did you find me?”

 

Nunnally turned her attention from the window to her side, warmly carved from a dark wood she didn’t know, and letting sunshine stream in through clean glass panels to show the beautiful day outside. Blue skies and puffs of clouds, accompanied by picturesque greenery and sunflowers and even birdsong. The landscape seemed straight from a fairy tale, and the cozy little cottage with its warm quilts and linens over dark woods fit in perfectly.

 

Sitting before her on a second-hand teal couch was a woman with unnaturally green hair and striking amber eyes, calmly pouring tea from a porcelain pot etched with delicate blue flowers. She wore her hair up in a high ponytail and a shawl covered the loose fitted brown dress that seemed much too drab for her figure and surroundings. The woman sat back once the tea was poured in two cups, not bothering to hide her frown.

 

“You didn’t make it easy,” Nunnally said brightly, maintaining a gentle smile. She reached for the delicate teacup on the table, bringing it and the tray to herself before breathing in the scent. “I really should have known that you’d be in Australia, after everything.”

 

The other woman didn’t respond, merely continued to watch her carefully.

 

“I’m sorry if I intruded, C.C.,” Nunnally conceded, sounding properly apologetic. “But it took me so long to find you, and I didn’t know if you were going to leave again…”

 

“Is that why you brought your guards with you?” C.C. responded coolly. She nodded toward the outside, where the edges of dark uniforms could be seen past the bushes and trees. Her eyes narrowed slightly before turning her attention to the younger woman for answers.

 

“I would have preferred to come alone,” Nunnally said, “but the royal guard… it’s beyond my hands. I haven’t had time alone for— years, now.”

 

“Surely they would have allowed you more freedom if you just brought your knight along.”

 

Nunnally’s smile didn’t falter, although she looked away. “...I’m not certain he would want to come for this.”

 

There was a long moment as Nunnally contemplated her request and her reason for being here— here, in neutral territory, away from the remains of Britannia and Europia and the Chinese Federation, and away from all the still fledgling nations struggling to stand up after regaining their independence from the three imperial empires. Australia had always been a land that was far too hostile and far too disadvantage for the great powers of the world, left alone by the grace of being a fruitless endeavor.

 

Having been here for only a mere handful of hours, Nunnally could understand why— it was not fully summer, yet the land was hot and dry, and outside the cities were roads barely maintained at all. C.C.’s choice of habitat was beautiful, but far from civilization, and also far from natural. She didn’t know if C.C. maintained her garden herself, with her pale skin, or if there was some form of magic to the abundance of nature around the cottage, but she wasn’t here to question that.

 

She was aware of what the woman was called, despite having kept quiet about it for years— whispers in the palace about the ‘witch’ and her immortality. It wasn’t often that there would be someone who had encountered C.C. before, and even less were those who thought there was something inhuman about her. But Nunnally spent years piecing together information, and all of it led her here.

 

...In Australia.

 

“I wanted to ask a favor.” Nunnally said, dismissing the sight of the royal guard hovering outside, ever loyal and ever silent. They were some of the ‘presents’ left to her after her ascension to Empress, sworn to her and her alone long before she knew they existed. They were not inside the cottage, and even if they were, she already knew they would never reveal whatever conversation continued.

 

They couldn’t. Not when they were geassed to serve her.

 

“Oh?” C.C. said, expression still as blank as ever. “And what would the empress of the world need from a country girl?”

 

Nunnally took a sip of her tea, savoring the warmth on her tongue alongside the dark swirl of color that she could see. She never tired of it— sight. Colors. _Vision_. Something so basic she lost for so long. The world had been a whirlwind of sights for so long that she managed to distract herself the past several years. The longer she cling to the wonders of the world, though, the less she could distract herself.

 

A week ago marked five years since the death of her brother, and she watched the celebrations in the streets, televised around the world. The rebuilt imperial palace at Pendragon stayed silent in solidarity with her, but Nunnally could see beyond that to the whispers of servants and guards whose smiles were just a little brighter, who passed around hidden bottles of champagne to celebrate.

 

She looked up at C.C., taking in the other woman and her ever youthful features. Five years hadn’t changed her at all, not that Nunnally expected it to. She herself had greatly changed in the last five years, yet C.C. looked exactly the same as the pictures that others reluctantly parted with where the witch had barely been a blur in the background. It was enough for Nunnally to know what she looked like and who the search for, but C.C. had been very careful about not having her own image immortalized.

 

The voice was the same, if colder than before. With the contrast of her plain clothing and her striking features, Nunnally wondered how she must have looked like those years ago, standing next to— to her brother.

 

Did she look just like this? Emotionless and cold, waiting for any business to be concluded before she could go her own way again.

 

But that wasn’t right. From the faded memories left to her, her brother had seen C.C. smile, had— given promises. Gotten promises in return.

 

If only Nunnally knew exactly what they were.

 

She rested her teacup and dish on her legs before breathing in a shaky breath, and smiling. “The truth, if you please. But seeing as I’ve not gotten the truth from anyone in the past five years, empress or not, I can only hope you would be willing to speak with me. Not as— anything I might represent, but—”

 

It should be _easy_. She had the words written down long ago, preparing herself for the best way to speak with C.C. She just had to be confident. Emotive. Sweet. She knew her lines, knew what to say and what to do, but somehow in this situation, Nunnally find herself faltering, her voice breaking at the most inconvenient of times.

 

“I—” Her voice was watery, and it was unacceptable. Nunnally had attended endless diplomatic meetings over the last handful of years, had contributed where she could and commented on things that stood out. She was a trained politician by now, calm and collected even in the most dire of situations. She knew how to smile disarmingly, and how to gain trust through her mere words alone. She was— she was a _vi Britannia_ , and she wasn’t going to falter here, when she was potentially so close to the truth she desired.

 

It didn’t make _sense_. But no, she could use her lapse to her advantage.

 

Looking back up toward the other woman, Nunnally willed her tone to stabilize, although she didn’t try to hide her discontent this time under the guise of a smile. “I _need to know_. As his sister. Please. No one will talk about him. I waited, because I thought maybe they just— needed time. I thought maybe, eventually, they would finally tell me something about him. Anything. But no one wants to—” She gestured helplessly, jaw tensing shut in a frown as she willed her blurry vision away. Where had her words gone? This was a disaster. “—And I know! I know just enough to know they’re lying to me, maybe because it hurts them and they don’t want to talk about it, or because they think it’ll hurt me, and they don’t want to talk about it. Maybe they think time will help, and that I’ll just forget or give up or stop asking, but—”

 

Nunnally breathes in heavily through her nose, a hand swiping at her treacherous eyes to clear her vision. This wasn’t how she wanted this meeting to go, and a glance at C.C. told her the woman was unmoved by the unintended display of emotion.

 

She was just so _tired_. Twenty years old and the entire world still treated her like glass, thinking they were protecting her from her horrible brother if they could just change the subject whenever she asked about him.

 

They celebrated his death in the streets, joked over his failures, and printed satires of him in newspapers. While none of that was shown to her, Nunnally _knew_. The entire world was united in how much they hated Lelouch vi Britannia, and it made her want to scream.

 

It made her want to scream five years ago, and rather than diminishing with time, the feeling was even stronger now. Because while a traumatized fifteen year old girl was allowed to lock herself in her room and destroy everything she could get her hands on, allowed to cry randomly for a few weeks while the maids tiptoed around her, a twenty year old beloved and much trusted Empress was not allowed such displays.

 

She wondered if her brother had taken that into consideration when he left her the world.

 

She wondered if he ever intended for her to know his true intentions at all, or if that was something she found out by accident— if she was meant to hate him just as much as the rest of the world, somehow forgetting the kind and gentle brother who had dropped everything— give up on everything— just to take care of her for most of her life.

 

How was she supposed to forget the boy who used to chase her around trying to keep her out of trouble? Who stuck by her after their mother’s death, who disinherited himself because their father didn’t care about her? The one who learned how to cook, how to clean, how to fix her clothes and how to feed her her and tend to her unresponsive legs and be her eyes in a dark world filled with strangers who didn’t care about them?

 

The excitement of being able to see once again had chased away the grief for a time, but with no one to talk to, no one willing to stay if she didn’t call her brother a monster, Nunnally’s frustration only rose.

 

No one else, not even Zero, was willing to admit aloud that Lelouch died as the most hated man in the world as a way of ensuring a kinder, more beautiful future.

 

Nunnally pinched at the bridge of her nose, willing her dark thoughts away. “...It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry. I’m pushing. I came to ask for a favor, and got— sidetracked.”

 

“A favor?” C.C. finally spoke up, shifting in her seat to look less like a doll and show that she was still listening despite Nunnally lapse. “And if I tell you that the truth is exactly as everyone else has told you?”

 

Of course she would lie as well. But that was alright, because Nunnally didn’t expect any different.

 

“Not— that. Or, not just that.” This would have gone better with a pleasant conversation, with some hot tea and smiles and perhaps out in the gardens to enjoy the breeze and the fresh air. That was how Nunnally envisioned this talk going, but that was alright. She could improvise.

 

She moved the teacup from her legs back to the table between them, and then bowed from the waist, one hand over her heart for sincerity, in a flourished move she hoped would live up to the dramatics of the rest of her family.

 

“I, Nunnally vi Britannia, do request from Code-bearer C.C., the power of kings.”

  


—

  


In the end, it was a relief to walk out of the small cottage into the hot and dry air again, despite the discomfort she felt immediately thanks to the weather. Maybe she really _was_ too sheltered if just the sun in Australia was enough to make her cringe.

 

Too soft and used to royal processions with plenty of air conditioning and leather seats.

 

“Congratulations~!” Came the sing-song voice that greeted her by the shade of the trees, and a pale figure in a long lab coat clapped for her even as he pushed away from the waiting guards. “I take it your talk was a success, Your Majesty~?”

 

Nunnally smiled, patting down her dress before making her way to the shade, two guards who had waiting by the doorway falling into step with her. “I wouldn’t understand what you mean, Earl Asplund. But if you’re talking about your invention, then yes, it’s been quite the success.”

 

“Indeed!” The scientist exclaimed, grinning as he took in her posture, “You’ve gotten quite good at maneuvering! As expected of our empress.”

 

“It wouldn’t have been possible without you, Earl Asplund,” Nunnally demurred, and then nodded toward the processions of shiny black cars, “Shall we go?”

 

Her guards escorted her into the center-most vehicle before the Earl could offer any protests, and he scrambled in after her to continue his questioning. Normally he would have been prevented to do so by Cecile Croomy, but she had been not able to make the trip with them, instead accompanying Zero on a mission to oversee the rising protests in Europia.

 

As the car started up and the air conditioning filtered through, Nunnally breathed out a hesitant sigh of relief as the sweat on the back of her neck started to evaporate. She rubbed at the top of her thighs briefly, trying to tug the restraints a little looser around her flesh, but the metal didn’t give.

 

“If it needs adjustments…” Asplund suggested, eyeing her movements. “You would only need to say.”

 

“No,” she dismissed, although she didn’t stop rubbing at her legs within its metal restraints, “It works perfectly. Just a little tight when I sit down, but I’ll adjust.”

 

Her head felt heavy with the change in temperatures, and Nunnally turned to tugging at strands of hair hair from the braids wrapped around her head. It weighed her down, itself like the crown that she refused to wear, and she wondered once more if she would finally find the courage to cut her hair.

 

...No. She wouldn’t.

 

“So did you get your talk with the Demon Emperor’s former accomplice?” Asplund asked, still with that same sly smile on his face. She couldn’t tell if he cared about her answer or not, as he only accompanied her recently due to the spinal frame she was wearing. He always did like to follow his machines around.

 

“We spoke,” Nunnally confirmed, tugging a strand of hair free from her braid. She’d have to redo the entire thing later, possibly before they left the car at Sydney, but she had gotten accustomed to this hairstyle long enough that she could easily fix it without a mirror.

 

She didn’t like anyone she didn’t know touching her hair.

 

“And?” Asplund prompted, actually looking curious.

 

“...I don’t know what I expected.” She said, and then forcibly moved her hands down to her lap again so that she didn’t yank at more hair. She glanced out the tinted windows of the car, wondering at the dry and desolate landscape that now surrounded them away from C.C.’s house. Her home had been like an oasis in the desert, and Nunnally didn’t know how she managed it.

 

Asplund made a humming noise of acknowledgement, and then seemed to lose interest in her answers, instead focusing his attention on a shining tablet that he pulled out from under his coat. She didn’t take offense— Lloyd Asplund was well-known for being disinterested in human components and affairs, preferring instead his inventions and machinery.

 

Years ago, he had thrown all his attention into Knightmare Frames, creating the Lancelot frame that was piloted by—

 

Nunnally shut down that train of thought. It didn’t matter. Zero wouldn’t talk to her about it. Asplund was now known for his technological marvels spanning from whatever his attention took him that day. She herself was benefiting from one of his ideas to miniaturize the braces of a Knightmare Frame, stripping the metal parts until it was at the very lightest so that it could support a human frame— the same idea as a person piloting, except this time almost instinctively.

 

She tapped her fingers on her lap, her pinkie hitting the metal as she alternated. It had been a— hectic few months as she tested his new frame, a thin metallic suit that supported the lower half of her body like a malleable half suit of armor with an artificial spine that ridged up her back underneath her clothes.

 

The medical field was still far from being able to fix spinal injuries, but humanoid machines had been in mass production for decades now.

 

And really, all she wanted when the idea was proposed was to be able to get through her days without relying on others to help her from place to place.

 

Sayoko and Zero couldn’t be expected to look after her forever, after all.

 

“Have you noticed an increase in temperature, Your Majesty?” Asplund asked, eyes still reading through whatever he pulled up on his tablet. “Delays in movement? A stuck joint?”

 

“No,” she told him, rubbing at her legs again before smiling pleasantly, “It’s a bit hot, but I think that’s more to do with the temperatures than any overheating.”

 

“Ahh.”

 

“And the newest version is a marvel,” she complimented, “I can barely hear the gears move at all.”

 

Asplund hesitated, and the looked up at her with a frown. “But you can still hear them, yes?”

 

“A-ah,” Nunnally drew back for a moment, her smile turning nervous as she realized her mistake, “I’ve been told that my hearing is more sensitive than most!”

 

“The next version will be completely silent!” Asplund promised her, ignoring those words completely as he adjusted his glasses, once again grinning. “It will be a pleasure to come up with a stealthier machine!”

 

Nunnally thought to protest for just a second before deciding against it. Instead, she directed her smile his way despite the fact that he had already lost interest in her, and said, “I’m sure it will be.”

  


—

  


“Your Majesty,” A slender woman with dark hair and a pair of sunglasses, dressed sharply in unlined pantsuit, bowed slightly as Nunnally exited the car behind her hotel in Sydney. “I hope your trip was fruitful.”

 

“Your country is very beautiful, Miss Spragg,” Nunnally told her with a smile, one hand pushing the last of her hairpins in place even as the metal frame supporting her legs adjusted to the change in positions. She had taken to wearing long skirts and loose boots the past several months, and it was quite a hassle for warmer climates. “I’ve quite enjoyed the scenery, even if it’s just from inside a car. I’m sorry if I’ve been troubling you, though…”

 

“Oh, no,” and now the put-together woman looked a little flustered, almost taking a half step back in her haste to reassure the empress, “It was no trouble at all, of course! Everyone should be allowed an afternoon to sight-see, and I’m grateful that you’re spending the rest of the day with us. There must be several other things you’d rather be doing, especially as a young woman.”

 

Nunnally smoothed out her skirt, and straightened her back, “I can assure you, Miss Spragg, there is nothing I would love more than to meet the children. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, in fact. Please— lead the way.”

  


—

  


By the time Nunnally vi Britannia returned to Pendragon, the headlines were reading lines after lines of praise for the gentle empress, seen soothing sickly children and taking the time to visit classrooms and inspire the future generation. She had donated to charities in a country that had nothing to do with Britannia, visited scientists with awards, and spoke not only with stars but with common folk in the streets while her royal guard struggled to protect her from unseen threats.

 

Her days had been so packed that no one could fathom the idea she might have taken an entire afternoon off while in Australia, as Nunnally attended at least three different meetings and events per day, leaving little time for herself.

 

She was seated at breakfast when the newspaper was laid down gently next to her tea, and she looked up from her eggs to see her own distorted reflection in Zero’s polished mask.

 

“It’s dangerous to attend open air events on a whim, Your Majesty,” Zero’s modified voice told her, the hint of disapproval shining through. Her expression was blank as he continued, “There are plenty of charities both in Britannia and the former colonies should you chose to support them, and your security team would appreciate a week’s notice for any such plans.”

 

She let his words sit in silence for a moment before returning her attention to breakfast. “There hasn’t been any attacks on me for three years.”

 

“Regardless.”

 

She stabbed at her eggs, expressionless even as her utensils ripped her food to pieces. This early in the morning, there were only a handful of people allowed to see her, and she didn’t feel like pasting on a smile for any of them. She wondered if Zero knew he still had a slight accent, seeing as he rarely spoke to the public, unlike the charismatic speeches from when he first appeared. Maybe he did know, and that was why he only spoke to a select few, including her.

 

It was more likely that he didn’t know. Most people wouldn’t have noticed it anyway, not with the voice modifier. She just happened to have better hearing than most.

 

“My brother went where he wanted,” she said rebelliously, still ripping apart her eggs, not bothering with eating anything. Her hair was still in shambles from sleep, tied in a messy bun, and while Zero had offered before to help her with it, just as Sayoko had, Nunnally declined each time. It gave her extra time in the morning to herself if she insisted on taking care of her long hair. “No one stopped him.”

 

“Emperor Lelouch planned his every move long before he acted, and prepared accordingly. He was still assassinated.”

 

 _By you_ , she thought darkly, trying to ignore Zero’s presence next to her. It was a fruitless endeavor, though, seeing as the very nature of Zero was to be seen. Every line in his suit and his mask was meant to captivate, and that fact wasn’t diluted through the various reflective surfaces the reinforced his image to Nunnally. She couldn’t escape him even if she tried.

 

She had told him, once, that she already knew his identity. She called him by name, accused him, screamed at him, cried about his betrayal and his heartlessness. Zero stood still the entire time after dismissing the palace staff, taking every accusation silently before asking her what her orders were.

 

In that way, she thought sullenly, Zero was just as empty as her royal guard.

 

“I needed a few days away,” she told him instead. “If I’m to be targeted by assassins, so be it. I’ve already named both Schneizel and Cornelia to be successors for the throne in the event of my death, and they can fight over this accused role for all I care.”

 

Zero froze next to her, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t the first time she contemplated her own assassination— it was to be expected considering how how much of a public figure she was, and it gave Zero pause each time. Nunnally reveled in it. It wasn’t as if she wished for her own death, but there was a hint of satisfaction seeing the normally unflappable Zero so unsettled.

 

Maybe one day she would just be able to pass her position on to someone else. Schneizel, maybe, except she couldn’t trust him to rule the way Lelouch would have approved of. He was certainly a genius on par with her full-blooded brother, but due to Geass he was bound to serve Zero. And Zero was bound to serve her, Geass or not.

 

Cornelia was just as bad a candidate, despite Nunnally’s sympathy toward her half-sister. Cornelia had lost a part of herself after Euphemia’s death, and wanted nothing to do with the throne at all nowadays, preferring instead the company of her Knights and others who were loyal enough to her that they would not bother her with politics. She had quietly retired from the public to grieve, appearing only when necessary and when she felt like she wanted a say in something.

 

Nunnally had no such reprieve.

 

These days, she didn’t speak much with her siblings if she could manage it. Schneizel paid her little mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to converse with Cornelia, who so openly hated the last Emperor.

 

Nowadays, Nunnally felt like she couldn’t speak with anyone freely at all.

 

She set down her fork with a clink against the porcelain plates, giving up on her appetite entirely. She barely glanced at the newspaper set down next to her, seeing her exploits upon the front page, and then a further section below on Zero’s actions in Europia United, praising his mere presence as what defused a tense situation.

 

Five years later, and Zero’s reputation still proceeded him around the world as the Knight of Justice, a symbol of peace, and the one who slayed the Demon Emperor.

 

“If that’s all,” she said coolly, “Then I’ll go prepare for the rest of the day.”

 

She stood, the metal on her legs clicking together for a moment with the whir of gears, and then strode away back to her own quarters for time to get dressed and braid her hair.

 

Years before, she struggled to stay with Zero in the mornings, each time attempting to draw him into further conversation, hoping against hope that one day he might finally let down the mask and she would get one of her friends back. She apologized, and she wheedled, and she had done everything within her desperate power to unmask Zero and confirm every memory she had somehow stolen from her brother.

 

But while Zero was helpful, and reassuring, and gentle at all times around her… he would not confirm his identity. He would not speak of the Demon Emperor unless she managed to pry some useless information through casual conversation. The more she tried to engage him in her life, the more withdrawn he grew.

 

When she found Zero standing in a room with other celebrants two weeks ago, standing attentively as servants lavished praise upon him for his actions, Nunnally finally felt the small flame of hope in her heart flicker away. She wanted to— _talk_ to him. She had so many questions, and she had hoped that maybe one day he would answer them for her.

 

Zero had, up until the past two weeks, been one of the few people she could trust to not celebrate the anniversary of her brother’s death.

 

The next day, when Sayoko had asked her what she was doing roaming the palace without her knight, Nunnally had snapped at her caretaker for the first time, insisting that Zero wasn’t her knight— he was the knight of justice, the hero of the world— but not _her_ knight. As a royal, she had the opportunity to choose her own knight, and she hadn’t chosen _him_.

 

(No, her brother had created and chosen Zero for her instead.)

 

_“All the hatred in the world, focused on me.”_

 

 _Oh, Lelouch,_ she thought despairingly, heart heavy in her chest as she closed the door to her room, seeing the reflection of Zero still down the hallway, still in the dining hall where she left him, _what have you done?_

  


—

  


She showed up three days later, appearing from the shadows as Nunnally visited the empty mausoleum she commissioned for her brother. Spare no expense, she had told the architects back then, heart full of grief even as they sneered at the idea of putting her brother to rest; she told them that the mausoleum was to be the new resting place of all the royal family after their death.

 

The old one had been destroyed in the bombing of Pendragon, so the new one will be for the future.

 

She didn’t tell that is was a lie on her part. She didn’t plan for the building underneath the palace to be a tomb for anyone but her brother. She might change her mind in the future, might ask to also be entombed there upon her death, but for right now, it was her space to grieve freely without intrusions from others.

 

Occasionally, she would find Zero a silent presence standing guard outside, and occasionally, Kallen Kouzeki rested flowers against the door when she visited from Japan.

 

The inside was a secret to all but a select few, as Nunnally had needed both Sayoko and Jeremiah’s help to tend to the luminous garden planted inside, all of flowers that would bloom brightly in the dark.

 

But Jeremiah had his own life now, and Sayoko deserved hers as well without Nunnally pulling her down with her in her grief.

 

With the new attachments on her legs allowing movement, Nunnally began the painstaking task of tending to the garden herself, the light inside the faux-mausoleum dim as it bounced off thick marble and granite tiles on the floor, and the almost translucent and luminescent amber of the walls. They were lit from behind for a diffused light, suffusing the room in a ethereal glow that complimented the arrays of plants and flowers sprawling over the grounds.

 

She spent her time tending to the flowers and pulling weeds— most of the garden was easily automated, wired through with a system that would water each plant separately when needed, connected to the pond by a wall that filtered its water in a steady trickling stream topped with abundant lotuses and water lilies.

 

Despite it being hidden away, Nunnally wanted the mausoleum to feel— as lively as possible. To be filled with the scents of growing things and sounds of running water. She wanted it to be beautiful, and deserving somehow of her brother.

 

“It feels like another world in here,” came a calm voice, and Nunnally looked up from fright for a moment (she hadn’t expected anyone in here at all) before calming her heart as she saw the same striking amber eyes from a week ago, all the brighter in this lit room, staring down at her.

 

C.C. had her distinctive hair hidden under a cap, but this time more stylish than what she had been wearing in her cottage out in the middle of nowhere. While this time it was Nunnally who dressed for gardening, C.C. had on a stylish black dress with slits on the sides that revealed long white heeled boots underneath.

 

Her expression was just as blank as it was last week, but Nunnally didn’t mind. She was used to talking to Zero’s blank mask, after all, and this didn’t feel much different. These days, Nunnally felt as if her mind was just as blank as his mask.

 

“Thank you,” she told her with a smile, raising an arm to wipe at the perspiration on her forehead. “I’ve worked hard on it.”

 

“I’ve never seen flowers glow like that.”

 

“They’re genetically engineered,” Nunnally said. It had been a long time since she could introduce this place to someone else, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to question how C.C. had managed to get into this heavily secured room. Instead, she pointed over to where a patch of vines were crawling along the high vaulted ceilings, dropping every so often to offer near glowing white flowers that dangle downwards. “I asked for plants that that would grow in darkness, like night flowers. I found out later that even flowers that bloom at night need sunlight during the day to grow, though, so almost every plant here has been— altered to ensure they could survive in this place. Of course, since they were to be modified anyway, I asked for a few more changes.”

 

Bio-luminescence had been all the rage four years ago, and Nunnally had capitalized on it.

 

“That one,” she pointed to the ones growing above them, with the little white drooping flowers, “is an Angel’s Trumpet. I’d never seen one before a team of botanists gifted it to me. They changed it, made it so that once the lights were turned off, the flowers glowed like stars. I’ll never forget the sight.”

 

She murmured the last part, and smiled to herself in memory. One of the perks of being empress, it seemed, was that people all over the work would trip over themselves trying to present their findings or projects to her as gifts, hoping for more funding. Who could keep them in their research better than the empress of Britannia, after all?

 

“When they told me,” she finally continued, eyes back on the glowing flowers, “that the entire plant was to be handled delicately, though, because it was still extremely poisonous… well. I knew I had to have it in here. Don’t you agree?”

 

“It suits him.” C.C. said quietly.

 

Nunnally found her smile growing more genuine. “...Yes. Yes, it does.”

 

She wiped her hands on her dirty skirt, and pushed herself upward, the gears surrounding her knees groaning for a moment in protest before she managed to stand.

 

“Well, then,” she said cheerily, heading toward an area of the garden almost covered by the hedge of Angel’s Trumpets by the water, “would you care for some tea?”

 

There was a table there, made of marble, and seats carved with intricate figures all along the sides. It wasn’t very comfortable, but it was beautiful and would survive the test of time.

 

“You take tea here?” C.C. asked, for the first time showing a bit of incredulousness in her tone.

 

“Oh, yes,” Nunnally informed her, seating herself without waiting for the other woman and tugging at a scrap of fabric slipping from the basket she tended to bring with her, unraveling the knot at the top to reveal a package with a thermos and several small sandwiches. She wondered if this would sound strange to the immortal witch, but decided she didn’t care enough to lie about it. “It’s just a little picnic basket, I’m afraid. I like to take tea with my brother once a week, if possible.”

 

She could feel C.C.’s hesitation, and continued on.

 

“You don’t need to worry,” she tried to reassure her. “I know it sounds— odd. I don’t always have the clearest grasp of things when it comes to my brother, but… I know he’s gone. You don’t have to worry about me— believing otherwise.” It was a legitimate worry, considering the mental stability of the royal family in general.

 

She uncapped the thermos, reaching into the picnic basket once more to pull out two delicate bone China teacups. Perhaps it really was a good thing that she carried two with her here. The beverage was still steaming as she poured, and then offered one of the cups, along with the small sliced sandwiches.

 

“It’s not much,” she said, “as I tend to eat… alone, here.”

 

Nunnally wasn’t under any delusions about the world. She had held her brother’s hand as he died, had listened to the crowd cheer, had screamed and screamed to no avail. She had exhausted her tears from the very first day, refusing to let go of him even as soldiers attempted to ‘rescue’ her from the barge.

 

She had been there the next day, and the next, wishing against everything that it was all a horrible nightmare, or some kind of mistake, and that if she stayed long enough, wished hard enough, then she would be able to feel the warmth in his hands again.

 

But his hands stayed cold, and after three days, Nunnally had been forced to surrender her brother to the coroner if she wanted a proper send off for him.

 

(Nunnally had gotten into a screaming match with Cornelia at the makeshift funeral.)

 

It hadn’t been a good start when it came to introducing her as the next ruler of Britannia (and along with it, the world if she so chose), but there had been no one else. While her father had been alive, Nunnally had been eighty-seventh in line for the throne despite being a direct daughter of the emperor. She had known from the very beginning that there was no chance of her inheriting; that she would at best remain a princess sheltered in Pendragon, and if she made something of herself, she might be put in charge of something important to the empire.

 

She didn’t remember if she had big ambitions as a child. It hadn’t mattered anymore after her mother’s death, anyway, not when her brother had been too young to stand for himself in court, let alone for her as well.

 

C.C. didn’t respond to her words, accepting her teacup silently and opting not to touch the sandwiches.

 

“Have you thought about my request?” Nunnally asked.

 

“Oh, was it a request?” C.C. said. “It sounded like a command.”

 

“Nothing so drastic.” She moved to pull one of the mini sandwiches over to her side, taking a small bite to allow herself more time to arrange her words correctly, “It’s a selfish wish of mine, I suppose. I have no real use for Geass, and I can’t possibly do anything for you.”

 

She didn’t know what the deal was between C.C. and her brother in those years previous, but the two of them had come to an arrangement that must have benefited them both. Nunnally, now, could offer nothing that might benefit C.C., just as Geass would not benefit a girl who already had the world in the palm of her hand.

 

“How do you know about this power?” C.C. opted to ask instead, not confirming or denying whether she had accepted Nunnally’s request. She finally reached for her tea, although she made no move to drink. “Zero would not have spoken of it.”

 

“I remembered it,” Nunnally told her matter-of-factly, smiling as she saw C.C.’s eyes widen. “Is it that strange? My whole life seems to have been touched by this power, after all.”

 

It had taken her a long time to realize there was something different about herself; that other people couldn’t seem to understand a person’s intentions just by skin contact, that if someone walked into the room, she wasn’t supposed to already know who it was. She wasn’t supposed to know how someone was feeling, and she most definitely wasn’t supposed to— see someone’s memories.

 

The last one, Nunnally just attributed to her bond with her brother for the longest time. All the stories and media covered great sibling bonds, and she accepted that all as truth because it was true to her. She always knew when Lelouch came home, always knew when he was upset, and always knew when he was hiding something from her.

 

Likewise, he had always known when she had nightmares, always known when she was ill, and always came when she was in danger. As children, he also knew whenever she was up to mischief, managing to stop her before she could put her plans into action.

 

Growing up, it had been— normal, for her.

 

Normal enough that she accepted the fact that she had known his intentions when he died, even if he never spoke a word of it to her. She knew who was under the Zero mask, and she knew of her brother’s struggles and pain. She only wished it hadn’t been only at the last minute.

 

It was only in recent years that she came to slowly realize not all sibling bonds were like that, and that if she ever spoke of her closeness to her brother, then the average person might start to doubt her mental stability. It only made sense if she could apply what Lelouch knew— that their parents had both been Geass users, both been involved in… something blurry in her mind that was just out of her reach, but she _knew_ was extremely important and world-changing.

 

“Have you spoken to you knight about this?”

 

“He’s not my knight,” Nunnally denied immediately with a frown, but then struggled to push back the onslaught of irritation at the suggestion. What did it matter what she told Zero? She had already said his name, revealed that she knew who he was, yet he hadn’t reacted at all.

 

Zero wouldn’t react, and Sayoko did nothing but smile sadly at her, and Jeremiah was rarely there if at all. She suspected that perhaps Earl Asplund and Cecile Croomy might have also known something, but Nunnally wasn’t certain enough of that to actively speak up. Kallen grew pained whenever Nunnally even hinted at Lelouch, and there felt like no one— no one in the entire world— that she could talk to to alleviate her grief.

 

No one wanted to hear their current empress lament the passing of the Demon Emperor.

 

“He won’t talk to me about this.” Nunnally said, fingers tightening around her teacup. “None of them will. And you were— you made yourself very hard to find.”

 

Mere glimpses of C.C. in her brother’s memory, and in the background of candid shots around Ashford Academy, didn’t make for a great lead. Not knowing her name or any real details about her made it even worse. It was only due to the fact that she had been in the palace when her brother had ruled, had been dressed to match him from time to time in a dress that made several of the servants question whether she was to be their new empress, that made her stick out enough in the minds of a few, enough that Nunnally could question them about her.

 

“He might be more amenable than you think.” C.C. told her, watching her carefully. “The power of kings is not your only option.”

 

Nunnally set down her teacup carefully. “‘Not my only option’? Or at you saying that it’s not an option for me at all?” When C.C. didn’t answer her, she pressed on. “I know I may not fit— whatever requirements you have, but…”

 

“I have no requirements.” C.C. said. “But a contract requires that two people both get something from it. You have nothing to offer me.”

 

“A new identity.” Nunnally insisted, leaning forward against the marble table. “You could be given a title— land, respect, and authority without being bothered. You’d have the choice of whether you want to participate in the world or hide away from it; nobles are allowed to do either of that. You’d be given a stipend for a far away land if you so wished, with a full manor and staff to care for it—”

 

“I have no need for lands or wealth or power.” The green haired woman gave her a hard stare, and Nunnally found herself withering under the look. “...What did you think your brother offered me?”

 

“I don’t know!”

 

She hadn’t meant to shout it, but Nunnally found herself frazzled enough, raw enough, to look control of the volume of her voice. It was a rarity nowadays, although she had yelled nearly daily years ago, most of the time behind locked doors in her room. Taking a moment to compose herself again, she gripped at the space above her heart and looked down at the tabletop to trace the lines and veins within the marble counter top.

 

“I don’t know.” She repeated, softer. Her hands felt like them might be trembling slightly, and Nunnally hated herself a little bit for losing control like that, so often in the past few weeks too. It certainly didn’t feel like time would heal her grief, not when when just felt worse and worse after the fifth anniversary. “That’s the problem. I know that— I know that I’m not him. I can’t ever be like him. Whatever he could offer you, even without the power that I have now, I probably can’t give to you. I feel like I never really knew anything about him, even though I know in my heart that’s wrong. I know he…”

 

She trailed off, staring at the table.

 

“He loved you.” The other woman stated tonelessly, and then raised her hands to intertwine her fingers on the table, leaning to the side in a much more relaxed manner. Whether it meant if Nunnally had finally gotten through to her somehow, she didn’t know. “What you want from me will isolate you. It will change everything.”

 

“I’m already isolated.” Nunnally said quietly, feeling the cold underneath her fingertips. It was true, and it was cruel. “If it’s anything like being empress, then it won’t be anything new to me.”

 

“You hold the trust of the people.” C.C. told her. “After this, you may lose all that trust.”

 

Could she do that? As much as she didn’t care for her position or the loneliness it brought her, being empress was something that her brother left for her. A kinder, gentler world.

 

She found that she didn’t want it. She had known that for years, but Nunnally couldn’t bring herself to shatter the illusion of peace, of demanding the truth from those who knew it, in public if she could just to spite them… she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t, because Lelouch wouldn’t have wanted that.

 

In that manner, she was as much a part of his plans as the rest of them.

 

And it was what she had left of him.

 

“I need to know.” _I feel like I’m going crazy._ “I have to at least try.” _No one will talk to me like a person anymore._ “Even if everything changes, even if I’m isolated further…” _What were you thinking, Lelouch? What drove you to this?_

 

C.C. wasn’t done. “He wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”

 

Well. Nunnally giggled slightly under her breath, feeling a little light headed and just a tad hysterical. Did this mean that C.C. was actually starting to think about it? “Well, he’s not here anymore, so he can’t tell me no.”

 

Not that she would have listened to him. Maybe she was still a little mad at him, after all.

 

C.C. tilted her head, as expressionless as ever as her bright eyes stared Nunnally down.

 

“Lelouch can’t tell me what to do anymore.” Nunnally continued, smiling as usual. “He can’t tell you what to do, either. He’s not here to do that anymore. And if I can’t— understand why he did what he did, if I can’t understand everything that he did in general, then how am I supposed to even know what he would have wanted for me?”

 

It might have been a stretch, but seeing C.C. eyes reminded Nunnally of her own gaze in the mirror.

 

She stood up, pushing at the tabletop and leaving the teacups, the sandwiches, and the picnic basket there as she stretched out her legs and rubbed lightly at the red marks left on her skin by the metal braces.

 

“I won’t push for a decision right now,” Nunnally told her brightly, because she knew, just knew, that if she forced a decision from C.C., then it wouldn’t be in her favor. “But I do hope you’ll stay here a while. Pendragon has changed quite a bit in the last five years, and there’s lot of new sights to see. I just hope you’ll take my request into consideration.”

 

She didn’t ask how the woman got into the mausoleum, not when there was a grand total of perhaps five people in the entire world that had the clearance to get inside (some of which might not have even been in before despite being given the security to do so).

 

 _Bid your time,_ Nunnally thought to herself as she went back to tending the garden of night flowers, not looking in C.C.’s direction. _You have all the time in the world._


	2. The Masked Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Made more mistakes than I thought, title was originally 'leave me your starDUST' but ahh. I like it anyway. I'll keep this. It must means the story has a slightly different title than the [NaNo soundtrack](https://shamera.dreamwidth.org/71081.html) I made for it out of a fit of boredom and procrastination during the middle of the month, LOL. Good news, finished chapter 13 so this story will have regular updates for a while yet. Bad news, my brain caught onto a new CG idea that I'm well into chapter 1 of. Uhhhh. We'll see what happens with that! And yes, I know Suzaku reveals himself to Nunnally early on, but for this story let's pretend he was super diligent about being Zero.

Nunnally vi Britannia, 100th Empress of the Holy Empire of Britannia (and honestly, she had been insisting for years on a name change… Neo-Britannia, maybe? Or just dissolve the empire altogether?), might have taken just the slightest bit of glee the next morning when she left her room for breakfast, for the first time in a while already completely dressed and prepared for the day rather than halfway through her daily routine and already on the forage for food.

 

She had given C.C. use of one of the guest rooms in the royal suites, made to host princes and princesses of the royal family coming to seek an audience with the current ruler. It was a traditional part of the palace architecture that Nunnally hadn’t the energy to fight on, although she insisted time and again that she was ridding the country of the system where the current ruler took on multiple…  _multiple_ , spouses, and then had a horde of children to fight over the throne.

 

It was a bloodthirsty tradition that she wasn’t going to abide by, not when she now had the power to change things. Perhaps it was because she still felt too young for children, didn’t feel ready to look at settling down (despite the traditions of the emperors in Britannia not exactly  _settling down_ even after their first marriage), and she didn’t want many children at all— and certainly didn’t want any hypothetical children to have to fight each other, perhaps to the death, over the throne.

 

No, her heirs would be her brother and sister, despite many reservations. Had her many…  _many_ other siblings not mostly died in the bombing of Pendragon, she would have assigned them as further heirs as well.

 

It was a well rehearsed struggle with the nobles and politicians who came from the depths and out of their hiding holes after she took the throne, that Britannia always had a multitude of heirs to choose from, in case the majority of them were not strong enough to rule. The Britannian line had been unbroken since the days of Caesar, and having only two heirs… what if something happened to them and her? After all, she had nearly a hundred siblings once upon a time, and now they were down to three! Just having three members of the royal family left was a dangerous move!

 

Not that she cared for their scheming. It was high time another family took the throne, or perhaps it be given to the general populace, if something did indeed happen to her and Schneizel and Cornelia. In a way, Nunnally was tempted to do that anyway, skipping over her brother and sister, knowing that they were already compromised and unfit for leadership.

 

She didn’t think she was fit for leadership, either, if not for her knowledgeable staff providing options for every scenario.

 

If anything, her advisers and council made the majority of the decisions, and then just ran it by her to see if she approved. Nunnally didn’t think herself fit for leadership, not when she barely remembered any of the lessons from childhood, and not when Schneizel took care of most of the political aspect, and Cornelia most of the military aspects.

 

She didn’t think that she had a high approval rating amongst the nobility, to be honest.

 

Nunnally wasn’t blind to the fact that many of the best among the best had been placed at her feet before she even took the throne of Britannia. Everything had been so carefully arranged, so precisely played, like a symphony of instruments already with master musicians at the helm waiting for their conductor even before she stepped to the podium. An entire regiment of loyal Royal Guards who would always put her safety and decisions first, scientists who were eager to please her, nobles falling all over themselves to get into her graces, and even servants who smiled at her due to their relief at her kindness after the dictatorship her brother had set up before.

 

Everything had just been—  _waiting_ , for her.

 

She pinned the errant strands of hair back into her braids around her head this morning with a cheery hum, touching up on parts of her makeup and smoothing down her dress even as she tested the metal harness on her legs to ensure that they would be in good working condition this day as well— they were taking off nightly and set to charge, the motors running off a detachable power source that she had a double of on her person at all times in case it was ever damaged.

 

It had been nearly half a year since she last touched the sleek pink wheelchair gathering dust in the corner of her room, and she was nothing but glad for that.

 

She had stayed up late the previous night for a teleconference set in a timezone for the Chinese Federation, and because of that the servants had been expecting her to sleep in, but… she wanted to be early this once, to ensure that she left the room and was having breakfast, before C.C. could make her appearance.

 

She wanted to see how Zero would react.

 

“Your Majesty,” a flustered maid stopped and curtsied deeply as Nunnally made her way down the hallway of her private quarters. It was a selfish request on her part that she requested her mornings be just for herself— only interrupted by Zero or whomever made desperately need her attention in the early hours, and therefore the majority of the cleaning and maintenance was done before her normal waking hours. “We didn’t expect you this early!”

 

“It’s okay, Teresa,” Nunnally reassured the fumbling maid gently, “you don’t need to hurry or clear out. I was just restless this morning, and thought to have breakfast a little earlier.”

 

“Of course, Your Majesty!” The maid flushed, “And what would you like for breakfast this morning? I will ask the cook to bring it up immediately.”

 

“Hmm.” Nunnally hummed to herself as she contemplated it, not faltering in her steps. “Whatever is healthy and easy for Cook to make. I’ll be taking my morning coffee in the dining hall as well, so please send Zero in at his usual time.”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

She settled into the brightly lit dining hall, spacious and almost intimidating with the warm wood paneling and delicate crystals and glassware of the chandeliers and plates refracting light to create an array of brilliance. Teresa returned within minutes with a tray off coffee and warm platter that she set in front of Nunnally, revealing a beautifully arranged twist of omelette colored with bright vegetables cooked into it. She settled the cup of coffee a little beyond the platter, and arranged the bowl of milk and sugar with careful clinks of glassware. Then, Teresa curtsied once more, and left Nunnally to her morning.

 

And so she waited.

 

It didn’t take long for the usual knock and sound of heavy doors opening to admit Zero, the masked man near silent as he glided down the length of the room with his usual stack of papers to update her on the events around the world. Some days, Nunnally thought, he could have been her secretary more than her supposed knight.

 

“Your Majesty,” he greeted with an impeccable courtly bow (she wondered if her brother had coached him on it, as it was textbook perfect, or whether he learned through other means during the time she lost when 'Zero' had a different title), “I hope you had a good rest.”

 

“Good morning, Zero,” she greeted pleasantly, pretending not to eye him for any reaction to her deviation from the norm. She knew she looked very different that morning, perfectly composed for the first time in weeks rather than the mess she usual was in the early morning light. Her greeting was different from the past several weeks as well, as she had done her best to ignore him ever since the anniversary.

 

If he was surprised, though, he didn’t show it in his posture or movements, still as unreadable to her as ever even as he gave a curt nod of acknowledgement.

 

“Did you not have a scheduled attendance with the Japanese Minister soon?” She asked, perhaps a little too lightly. “Should you be in Pendragon now, with that journey ahead of you?”

 

“The meeting is scheduled twenty hours from now,” he corrected her, “and as such, I will take my leave by noon. I hope Your Majesty will stay safe for the next two days until I return.”

 

“Oh, I fully intend to throw myself into the nearest riot the moment you leave.” She said breezily.

 

“I’m glad to hear you’re in good enough spirits for jokes this morning.”

 

She might have said something more cutting in response had she not been interrupted at that very moment, by a perfectly timed voice.

 

“Oh? Is this only breakfast for one, then? Surely you feed your guests in the Imperial Palace?”

 

It was only because Nunnally had been looking for a reaction, any reaction at all, from the very moment Zero walked into the room that morning, did she miss him tensing at the voice, suddenly going very cold and still.

 

It was more than anything she managed to incur from him in years.

 

“Good morning, C.C.” Nunnally called out, finally looking over to see the woman saunter up to the lavish table, clothed only in a over-sized white button down with bright green hair in disarray as her bare feet carried her silently across the room. She gave a secretive smile in response to the greeting before pulling out a chair for herself and collapsing heavily into it.

 

“No pizza?” C.C. asked, looking disappointed.

 

“I’m afraid not for breakfast,” Nunnally told her. “However, I’m sure I can have the cook bring you something lighter for the morning— he usually prepares things quite fast in the morning. Zero— if you would get the phone, please?”

 

She wouldn’t label what she was feeling as  _gleeful spite_ , so much, as… well, maybe a little bit satisfaction in seeing him so shocked for the first time in years. He was still frozen, seemingly staring at C.C.

 

“Well?” C.C. mocked, her little smile never leaving her face. “Aren’t you going to help the Empress order breakfast for me, Zero?”

 

“I— of course. I’ll do so immediately.” He bowed, stiff and jerky for the first time in too long, and turned on a heel to stride to a phone on the wall, linked specifically to the rest of the palace used by the maids and cooks to convey information to each other.

 

“I hope you don’t mind, Zero,” Nunnally said sweetly, her smile ever so wide with satisfaction. It felt a little like vengeance, almost, to push him off his game. To make him finally react to something that she did. “Miss C.C. will be staying with us for the next while. However long she decides to stay, of course. There’s plenty of sightseeing to do in Pendragon.”

 

“And I look forward to it,” C.C. responded, leaning on the table until she rested her chin her palm. She looked quite pleased with putting Zero off his calm demeanor as well. “I may be staying for quite a while. It’s beautiful here.”

 

Nunnally could see Zero’s grip on the phone tighten.

 

“We could have a girls’ day out,” Nunnally told C.C., although her gaze was still on Zero. “There are several stores I’d like to visit that I’ve never been to before— too busy recently. Oh, and parks! There’s a new botanical garden that opened up just the past year and I’ve yet to find time for it. It would be nice to see what new flowers they’ve managed to import to the mainland.”

 

“We could go today.” C.C. suggested. “Unless you have plans.”

 

By now, Zero’s figure was so tense Nunnally wondered if he might break the phone soon. For just a moment, she felt ashamed of her gloating, for the worry she could almost feel emanating from his direction. No matter how she treated him, no matter what she said or did, Zero had been there like a shadow, matching her step for step and acting as the sword to her will.

 

He had been the knight of justice chosen by her brother to protect her. And once, long before she became empress, he had also been her friend.

 

The feeling was gone a moment later in remembrance of the times he spurned her as Zero, pretending there was no identity behind the mask at all, despite how Nunnally had cleared figured it all out. He could have— if they were truly friends, he could have _been there_. Rather than as her shadow, but as someone to talk to. As someone to mourn with.

 

(“There is no man behind the mask,” Zero had responded smoothly mere days after her brother’s death when Nunnally demanded he take off the mask separating them; that he reveal, at least to her, the truth that she learned that unforgettable day that marked the passing of the Demon Emperor. “Suzaku Kururugi committed a great many atrocities, even before his time as the Demon’s Emperor’s knight, and he died for his crimes long ago. I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Your Highness.”)

 

She never thought herself so petty before, but Nunnally responded to C.C. with, “Well, I might be a little busy in the morning, but I’m sure I can make some time after noon to accompany you.”

 

She smiles warmly to accompany the words, although C.C. only quirks a brow at her, having seen through the thin veneer of civility easily.

 

“Your Majesty—” Zero protests, but Nunnally just turned her bright smile on him as well.

 

“It’s too bad about your meeting,” she says, “It would have been nice for you to join us as well.”

 

C.C. tilted her head and smile enigmatically as she leaned against the table, “Not sure he’d fit into some of the stores I’d be interested in visiting, though.”

 

Zero seemed to ignore the comment for speaking quietly on the phone, but then spun around as he hung up and declared, “I ordered a salad for Her Majesty’s guest.”

 

It was comical how quickly C.C.’s demeanor changed, going from slyly teasing to a mask of indignation as she tsk’ed and looked away with a pout. “...Tetchy.”

 

It made her look surprisingly young, and startled Nunnally slightly to see. She hadn’t expected C.C. to reveal much, especially since her previous meetings with the woman had mostly yielded blank expressions despite her own emotional outbursts. Even Zero’s snappiness and pettiness was different to see. Something more human than a witch and a representation of a man.

 

She swallowed heavily, looking between the two of them. Had this been the correct response all along— bringing them together? She had been able to elicit no response from either of them apart, but… Despite her earlier glee, Nunnally found herself somersaulting emotionally, her heart reminding her that no matter how frustrated, and no matter how much she provoked him, she couldn’t hate Zero. She knew who he was, even if he denied it.

 

“Of course,” she said hesitatingly, setting down her utensils, “I’m sure Prime Minister Ohgi would understand if the meeting was delayed or even conducted through teleconference. If Zero had something more important to be doing, that is.”

 

What was she saying? She had planned this entire thing, to get answers from C.C. once Zero was on the other side of the world and couldn’t interfere in any way. She should be patting herself on the back that it was so perfectly timed she could actually gloat.

 

C.C. too looked quite surprised. “...I wasn’t kidding about him standing out where I’d go.”

 

It would have been so easy to do as C.C. said, to take the afternoon off and stroll across the capital with the woman, asking questions where no one could overhear and getting answers as they came. She already waited so long, what was another few hours?

 

But then she would only have one version of the story; one side, and maybe she was greedy, but Nunnally wanted to know more, and she wanted to know more as soon as possible.

 

“I asked C.C. to come,” she told Zero, all traces of humor now gone. Nunnally had never been very good at deception, not in the way that would hold her own conscience hostage, and she had never been very good at lying to the people she loved just for the sake of spite. To protect them, yes; to make them feel better, yes. Those little white lies were so ingrained in her that it felt more natural to smile and always claim she was alright than it was to reveal when she was hurting. It was easier than inviting aggravation and concern. 

 

The two others were silent, attentions turned to her, and Nunnally felt cold.

 

“Since you won’t tell me.” She said, brows drawn together as she glared down at her breakfast and shook her head, “No matter what I do. Or how I ask. Everyone thinks that things will be better— later. In time. It doesn’t matter. No one wants to talk about what happened, and I’m just supposed to forget somehow, like maybe if I concentrate on the future, then this will all fade into some obscure memory.”

 

She looks up again, drawing in all her determination in a bid through the next statement, because after all this time of smiling and insisting that she was alright, of hating the fact that she couldn’t express herself except when alone, it was still terrifying to tell someone, anyone, about this feeling. It was her secret for so long, because everyone around her told her to forget, to get over it, that it felt wrong now to bring her grievances to light.

 

“But it just gets worse.” She said. “And you—”

 

Her throat felt like it was closing up around the words, and she  _hates_ that feeling.

 

“—You’re all hiding things from me. Maybe because you think you’re protecting me, but you’re  _not_. I know something’s wrong. I know things are being hidden from me. And I’m not naive enough to believe everything will simply be better if I remain ignorant. It— it makes me  _angry_. I don’t know how much I actually—  _know_ , and who else is lying to me, and what else they’re lying to me about. How am I supposed to trust you— or anyone? Knowing that so many of you, maybe all of you, are lying to me?”

 

She hated it. She hated this feeling making her tremble, and being so emotional all the time now, unable to control her own body and her own mind, always defaulting back to this grief and cycling through an empty void in her mind so that she couldn’t ever escape. The more time passed, the less she could distract herself from it. She  _hated_ it. Nunnally just wanted to heal from the hole in her heart, and it infuriated her that no one would allow that, but instead wanted her to pretend that she was already healed.

 

“What can I do,” she gritted out finally, each word pried from her throat as her hands clenched atop the table, unwilling to concede on her part in this cold war because it would be so much easier to go back to the easy frustration and cold animosity that made her feel better than facing the anguish in her heart, “to make you  _trust_ me with the truth?”

 

It exhausted her, fighting against herself and trying to wrestle just the hint of emotions from him.

 

“We’re alone every morning,” she told Zero, ignoring how C.C. leaned back expressionlessly to take in the both of them. “No cameras. No one allowed into these suites from the time I get up to the time I leave. I take breakfast, and you update me on what’s going on around the world, but… all this time, and you still won’t take off your mask!

 

“Why… why are you  _doing this_ , Suzaku?”

 

“Your Majesty,” Zero responded stiffly, “As I’ve already informed you—”

 

“She’s right, you know,” C.C. drawled, bringing both their attention to her even as Nunnally startled to remember that she wasn’t actually alone with Zero this confrontation. “It’s no use. She already knows. She asked me about Geass.”

 

Zero tensed, and Nunnally felt that she needed to correct C.C., “I asked her for it. Not to tell me about it, because I already know.”

 

Finally, that prompts an actual emotive response from the masked knight, who seems to flinch back from the very idea. “How—?” He seemed to shake himself from that question, though, and insisted firmly, “Your brother would not have wanted you anywhere near that accursed power.”

 

“Well, it doesn’t matter what he wants.” Nunnally told him, thinning her lips in displeasure at the words. If Zero thought he could dissuade her with what her brother wanted, then he was far too late in using that argument against her. “My brother is dead. He gave up the right to decide anything for me when  _he left me_.”

 

At the crux of it all, where it was hard to admit even to herself, the frustration she felt toward Zero for his insistence that he was nothing more than a symbol, at the people who withheld the truth from her and smiled as if she couldn’t see them lying right to her face, all of that was nothing compared to the simmering rage she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge, all directed at her brother.

 

Her big brother who used to promise that he would be there for her forever, that he wasn’t going anywhere, had  _left her_. And the worst of all was that it was his choice. His plan. Lelouch had left to conquer the world, and when he could have come back— could have stood at the top and changed the world to better fit his beliefs, it had been Lelouch who arranged for his own murder.

 

(His own suicide, the perfect finale in his grand  _pièce de résistance_.)

 

He left her the whole world and people fanatically loyal to her, and took away every promise he made. It was cruel, and it enraged Nunnally that even five years later, she didn’t find the trade worth it.

 

(She remembered a warm afternoon, spent outdoors with the scent of flowers on the breeze, when she insisted he read her a story and he complied with Alice in Wonderland, changing up the characters so that Nunnally herself would be Alice, and she would adventure through a fantastical world with people she could almost recognize from his descriptions. He never insisted that she was too old for stories, or tried to distance himself so he wouldn’t have to tell them. Instead, Lelouch’s dramatic rendition had faded in the middle as he fell asleep himself and Nunnally laughed and laughed because that was just so stereotypically  _Lelouch_ that she didn’t have the heart to wake him.)

 

“I’m not a child anymore.” Nunnally told them firmly. In fact, she was now two years older than her brother had been when he died. It was a fact she would never be able to forget. “And he doesn’t get to decide for me.”

 

 _Neither do you._  Her own words trailed off at that, the ball of tension held tight in her chest dissolving for the moment to leave her emotionally exhausted. And to think, it was morning still. Nunnally could only hope that the rest of her day allowed her more stability than how it started, although perhaps it was her own fault for ambushing Zero with the news of C.C.’s return first thing in the morning.

 

“If nothing else,” she concluded, all the firmness drained from her voice, “then as Empress, I should have the right to decide for myself. I want to understand. Why did he do it?”

 

“Geass will not help you understand his actions,” Zero said after he finally found his voice again, and Nunnally felt a sharp spike of irritation that once again it didn’t seem like he was going to take her words to heart. He wasn’t going to reveal himself to her, and take her hand, and allow her to cry.

 

“Nothing else has helped me understand so far.” She snapped back. “Not even you.”

 

C.C. stayed silent, watching with her unnaturally bright amber eyes.

 

“Will you tell me that my brother wouldn’t want this for me, too?” Nunnally asked her bitterly, feeling unreasonably betrayed just by the silence.

 

“Zero is correct,” C.C. agreed, but before Nunnally’s lips could twist into a sneer, she added, “But then again… Lelouch gave up any right to input years ago. And the decision is ultimately yours.”

 

The words wrapped around her, and Nunnally finally leaned forward, eager for the first time in the conversation, “Does this mean you’ll grant it to me? Geass? The power of kings?”

 

“C.C.—” Zero started with a step forward, arm slashing in a downward motion like a sword, “Stop this.”

 

“I can not grant your wish, even with Geass,” C.C. said, “and you will not be able to grant mine. The power will isolate you, more than you can imagine. You will live as a human, but also one completely different… with different rules, different time, and a different life. If you enter into a contract with me, the decision cannot be taken back. It may cause you mayhem and despair, and may give you no benefits.”

 

“Still, I accept.” Nunnally said confidently.

 

“ _Stop._ ” Zero insisted, this time much closer than before. Nunnally started to realize the knight had moved halfway across the room within moments just to keep the two of them apart, with one hand gripping at C.C.’s shoulder none too gently as if to keep her in place. He was hunched slightly over the woman, posture a blanket of tension. “This was never part of the plan!”

 

C.C. looked up at him lazily, unheeding of the grip on her shoulder. “That’s not for you to decide, Zero.”

 

“ _Lelouch would never have wanted this!_ ”

 

Hearing his name, belatedly, felt almost like a punch to her chest, knocking all the air out of her lungs. No one had— for so long— every reference to him at been ‘the Demon Emperor’, or, if people were being kind, ‘your brother’. There were worse names for him as well that Nunnally pretended weren’t uttered, but not once in the last five years had Zero ever uttered her brother’s name.

 

No one ever spoke his name, around her or otherwise. It was taboo, giving power to a man long gone, as if a name would humanize him when the whole world just wanted a caricature of an evil to defeat.

 

She balled her hands into fists to hide her shaking fingers.  _Finally_. She was finally getting somewhere, and she was determined to continue on, no matter how much her heart might hurt. Five years, and Nunnally knew intimately that she would not find any closure otherwise.

 

Maybe, if she was reading things correctly, neither could Zero.

 

He seemed to catch himself after those words, struggling a moment before backing up and very reluctantly letting go of C.C. As Zero straightened his posture again and Nunnally felt him slipping away again, she decided that she wouldn’t going to allow that to happen.

 

Had her brother slipped away from her in this manner as well?

 

“Then tell me, what would he have wanted?” She asked him, bringing a hand up to her chest. “For me to never know the truth? To hate him like the rest of the world? Did he have a plan for if I found out? What should I do, Suzaku?”

 

Zero tensed once more at the name, although less this time, and Nunnally knew that the name alone would not get through to him.

 

“And f you’re not Suzaku,” she said bitterly, “then why do you care so much about what my brother would have wanted?”

 

She waited, watching him for a long moment as he stayed silent on the matter, before adding, “Why will you not take the mask off for anyone? Not even someone who already knows who you are? I knew my brother, no matter what people will say otherwise. I know he wouldn’t want just this for you. And,” she hesitated, willing the swell of grief aside, “he wouldn’t want me to hate him, either.”

 

She could remember his voice, reading to her, dramatizing Alice in Wonderland; and the fondness in his tone as every sentence insisted that the story was actually about her, and about her adventures. The smell of flowers, the breeze through her hair, and the feeling of sunshine.

 

“Why don’t you want me to have this power?” She tried instead, feeling once more as if she were alone in the room, and Zero no more responsive than a brick wall. She didn’t want them to fall into old habits again, distrusting each other and unwilling to part with answers. She was doing her part, wasn’t she? She was reaching out, and trying again and again… But he didn’t seem interested at all in reciprocating.

 

“Is it because you don’t want me to be like my brother? Why is Geass ‘accursed’?” When the answers refused to come, Nunnally frowned, and asked, “Then did you know— that both my mother and father also had Geass? That it wasn’t just my brother.”

 

Yes. From the tiniest twitch of his fingers, Nunnally could read that he had known.

 

“If I’m to take your opinion on this under consideration, then you must explain to me why I should be barred from the power that was freely given to my mother… my father… my brother.”

 

With no answer forthcoming, Nunnally stretched out an arm to C.C., palm up in acceptance. “Well, then, if there are no valid objections, then I would like—”

 

“Stop.” And this time, even with the voice modulator, the tone sounded tired even as Zero, masked knight of justice who fought for the weak and the powerless, who ended the oppression of the Demon Emperor, reached up toward his mask and pressed his gloved fingers against the sides of it, activating a mechanism that lifted the back of the mask where it had been covering the head down to the neck tight enough that it could not be accidentally dislodged.

 

She waited with bated breath as she watched the smooth black panels retract, intent on finally,  _finally_ , getting answers.

 

After what felt like a small eternity, he lifted the mask, revealing black fabric that stretched up over the chin, over the lower face up to his eyes. Brown hair, slightly curly, spilled out a little too long, as if he was overdue to cut it but hadn’t found the time to bother. Slightly foreign features, and darkened green eyes were finally revealed as the mask came off.

 

Nunnally inhaled sharply. Of course. Of course that was what Suzaku looked like. She had always known, of course, having spent many of her evenings scouring online for school pictures, avoiding old news articles that painted those she loved in such horrid light. It was lucky for her that Milly Ashford loved festivals and events as much as she did, and loved to have the student council pose for group shots. Many of those pictures had been taken offline, because the former students didn’t like to be reminded that they had formerly gone to school with such a tyrant.

 

Nunnally had personally contacted Milly for the images, tearful and disoriented when she realized that the older girl hadn’t even known who she was other than her status.

 

It was as if Nunnally had never spent half her life in Japan, her and her brother under the care of the Ashford family. There were no pictures of her with the student council, either, which didn’t make any sense. She remembered smiling for the pictures, remembered Milly’s cheerful voice saying, “Cheese!” and the sound of camera flashes.

 

But where her image was missing from the school images, she had been able to procure quite a few of her brother, looking flushed and surprised in most of them to add to the authenticity of the candid.

 

And in some of the images, he would be chatting with a Japanese student, with slightly curly brown hair and green eyes, usually looking just as flustered and sometimes laughing.

 

Zero looked like an older version of the student she had seen in those photos, and of course he would. He pulled down the black fabric clinging to his face, and finally Nunnally could see his tense frown, which combined with nervous eyes to tell her just how anxious he was at the moment.

 

How strange, that he would be the one anxious, when it should be Nunnally instead who had been looking forward to this moment— to finally, truly, see the friend she had from childhood for the very first time.

 

He met her wide eyes for just a moment before looking away sharply; tense and guilty.

 

“Suzaku,” she breathed out, bringing a hand to her mouth because she felt like she might spill out all her words and thoughts and feelings if she didn’t hold it in physically. Her vision was blurring at the edges with tears, but she didn’t dare let them fall.

 

He gripped at the dark, reflective mask in both hands, still not meeting her eyes. “I— ...hello, Nunnally.”

 

 _Why didn’t you just tell me?_ She wanted to ask him, but he was already so closed off, and so unwilling to answer any of her questions, that this concession felt monumental, and she didn’t want to push him away at such an occasion. His voice was so different as well-- so much younger, so uncertain and so hesitant.

 

It was a final, solid confirmation of what she already knew: that her brother had conducted the whole world like an orchestra, guiding the rise and fall of wars and regimes, and his final act to end his magnum opus.

 

Suzaku Kururugi, the Knight of Zero, the White Reaper who served as the Demon Emperor’s sword, was supposed to have died in the battle for Damocles. There had been a funeral; a service. A monument, soon desecrated when the Demon Emperor fell.

 

But Nunnally had never taken Suzaku’s grave into account when she commissioned for her brother’s mausoleum. It would have been fruitless, she thought, since she already knew that Suzaku had, against all odds, survived. That he was living under the guise of Zero, because her brother had written him into that role. There might have been a nagging part of her, though, the tiniest voice that wondered if she was wrong and if she was calling Zero, the knight of justice, by the name of a dead man.

 

It was a relief to know that it wasn’t true.

 

It was an almost involuntary action, when she stood up suddenly from the table, shoving her chair over behind her in her haste to cover the two steps that would allow to reach him and wrap her arms around him, shaking as they were. She leaned her forehead against his tense shoulder, pressing her eyes tight against Zero’s cape to squeeze out the tears.

 

For a moment, she could ignore that he was her brother’s murderer, the one who felt like the noose around her neck, and the man who kept so many secrets from her no matter how she tried to wheedle from him.

 

In that moment, as he tentatively reached to gently wrap his arms around her shoulders in a loose embrace, he was just Suzaku: the boy who used to bring her and her brother treasures in the form of frogs and interesting bugs, who laughed long and free when her brother would shout with surprise and disgust. The boy who tried to teach her Japanese folk songs, his voice so loud and confident in the warm summer days as he pushed her wheelchair along bumpy paths in the forest, and the boy who would carry her on his back when her brother grew too tired to do so.

 

She remembered wrapping her arms around his neck before, during the invasion of Japan, when the smell of blood was thick in the air and the sweet stench of rot cloying, when she could feel her brother’s steps falter underneath him, and when Suzaku would whisper, so so quiet this time in contrast to his previous laughter and taunting, that he could carry her for a while, too.

 

He had taught her the first Japanese phrases to memorize, sitting down with her and Lelouch on hard wooden floors in a warm dusty room to cover language lessons because it had been difficult to communicate when they first met each other, with Suzaku’s stilted English and Lelouch’s inexperience with anything other than the romantic languages.

 

“I’m sorry,” he was saying against her hair, and Nunnally just tightened her grip.  _Why wouldn’t you talk to me?_ She wanted to shout at him, but didn’t dare. If she asked, if she yelled, if she even loosened her grip the slightest bit… would he just disappear on her as well?

 

Still, it didn’t stop the next words.

 

“You could have trusted me.” She slurred into his cloak, smelling slightly of machine oil and and the cleaning solution used in the palace. It didn’t feel right to her, like it should have smelled of Suzaku as he did as a child— of the outdoors, sunshine, grass, and warmth. Or maybe it should have smelled differently entirely, like her brain was half expecting the slightest hint of lavender and jasmine swirled together.

 

He was quiet for a long moment, pressed lightly against her, before saying once again, “Sorry.”

 

She closed her eyes against the dark cloak, hearing the unspoken excuse of just wanting to protect her. In the dark behind closed eyelids, she wondered if the suit was made of the same fabric as its previous iterations. She wanted to ask:  _do you regret it?_

 

“Will you tell me?” She asked instead, finally finding the strength to pull back a little and look up at his face, a strange dichotomy of emotions swirling in her gut at the realization— this was the boy who had been her brother’s best friend, and his killer; and knowing that, had her brother survived, he would be Suzaku’s age. They would look the same age, and it pained her heart to wonder what Lelouch would look like past his teenage years.

 

Suzaku looked pained for a moment, green eyes darkening and tension between his brows. She took the sight in gladly, staring up at him intently.

 

“I…” He frowned, although it was shaky, “I can… tell you what I know. But you won’t like it, Nunnally.”

 

It was like another gift, to have him finally call her by name instead of by title.

 

“I already don’t like what I do know.” She said. “But I still want to know more.”

 

The sound of a throat clearing interrupted them, and Nunnally looked over at C.C. to see the other woman staring impassively at the both of them.

 

“As touching as this reunion is,” she drawled, still seated and looking as disinterested as ever, “I want breakfast now, even if it’s a bunch of leaves.”

 

Suzaku scowled, and Nunnally laughed lightly at that, feeling lighter already as she took a step back.

 

“How about I call for the cook to bring us all a little more food?” She suggested brightly, already heading toward the phone on the wall. “We can delay Zero’s meeting as well, and clear my schedule for today.” With no real emergencies in the world, there was nothing that couldn’t wait until the next day. At worst, there would have be a teleconference. A word from the Empress of Britannia, and she could excuse the need to have Zero close to her for the next indeterminate amount of time. He wasn't so much the leader of the Black Knights anymore now, now that they were the force to govern the UFN, but rather a figurehead set to guard her and the peace of the world.

 

“I want pizza.” C.C. insisted, once again interested in the conversation now that food was promised. “Because the dead leaves are going to be dumped on Zero’s head.”

 

—

 

There was only the slightest bit of unexpected hassle with clearing both her and Zero’s schedules, but Nunnally was able to plead for a bit of time to herself with a smile and her assistants caved almost immediately. She had a guest, she explained, that she hadn’t seen since before she was named empress, whom she had lost contact with and now she wanted to spend an afternoon with her, perhaps in the gardens. And oh no, the guards didn’t need to be there as well since Zero was staying with her. Why? Oh, he’s just overprotective as usual, that’s all.

 

With Zero (who had affixed his mask back) answering the knock that brought a maid with a much larger breakfast platter than normal. He took the tray from her so that she didn’t enter the room, and she left with a curtsy.

 

Rather than discuss things at breakfast like Nunnally had originally expected and intended, they all settled down to eat, and she found that she couldn’t begrudge them that, not when she herself was basking in the feeling of sharing a meal with close friends.

 

Afterward, C.C. had left on Suzaku’s insistence, finally relenting on getting dressed in more than a shirt, although she didn’t leave without a snide remark about how he was as much a prude as Lelouch, which once again made Nunnally smile just to hear her brother’s name used without the stigma of fear and hate.

 

Suzaku excused himself as well, citing various people he had to contact just to delay his meetings and revealing a little more about how he was in contact with Jeremiah and Anya, and that Sayoko, stationed in Japan with plenty of time on her hands now that she wasn’t playing maid to a certain pair of Britannian royal children, would be able to handle the meeting with Prime Minister Ohgi for now.

 

“He doesn’t like meeting with me, anyway,” Suzaku revealed quietly. “I don’t think he likes looking at Zero at all.”

 

There was a flash of memory at the edge of her mind, something to do with the Japanese Prime Minister and Zero, but it was vague and fleeting. Instead, Nunnally just nodded in acknowledgement, still giddy from the progress she made.

 

Left alone, Nunnally thought to clear the Imperial gardens for the afternoon, wondering if anyone would question if she recalled the guards just for the afternoon just for some privacy, but the more she thought about it, the worse of an idea it seemed. The gardens were beautiful, but far too open for proper privacy. If they discussed things outdoors, there was a good chance that they could be spied on, albeit far away. If they went outdoors, then Suzaku would have to keep the facade of Zero, and C.C. would have to keep out of the way of all cameras. She would be the only one enjoying the weather freely.

 

But she couldn’t just stay in her quarters all day. Perhaps it was presumptuous of her, but she didn’t want rumors about her harboring a guest and Zero within her rooms all day, either. The Imperial Palace was overly large and grand, but that only meant that there were people passing along all the time, and it might seem strange if she asked to clear a room and request privacy. The library? Surely no one would suspect anything of her if she asked for a quiet afternoon in the library.

 

She thought of the grand French windows and dismissed the idea once again. She had never truly bothered with a space for herself other than—

 

Well. Surely it wasn’t that presumptuous of her. But a mausoleum was no place to discuss the topics that were bound to come up, yet it felt… right.

 

Even if her brother couldn’t answer her anymore, perhaps, if she tried hard enough, she might get his opinion on what happened.

 

(No, of course not. She wasn’t unstable, she just… maybe. Maybe she would be able to feel it, whether he approved or disapproved.)

 

C.C. reappeared soon enough, dressed sharply in a white pantsuit lined in gold and gathered at the front in crisp lines up to her collar, with grand cuffs and lapels that flared out behind her, as well as a red cape shortened to her shoulder blades. It looked extremely professional, akin to a uniform of some kind that Nunnally had never encountered before.

 

She was reminded, for some reason, of the uniform of the Black Knights, even if it looked nothing like it. And for a brief, painful moment, it also reminded her of her brother’s white garments when he became emperor.

 

C.C. raised an eyebrow at Zero’s absence. “Late? I’m not surprised.”

 

“He has a few more things to take care of than me,” Nunnally excused for him, feeling generous. She smiled brightly, genuinely, unable to help herself, but then faltered just slightly, “Did you mean it, though?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Geass. That it would be my choice.” It would mean that C.C. was willing on her part, and if that was the case, then…

 

“All contracts require the consent of both parties.” C.C. told her blandly. “He can interfere all he wants, but Zero is not in a contract with me unless he wishes to form one himself.”

 

“And you’d have no objections,” Nunnally confirmed hesitantly, “If I want a contract even if it’s not— advisable?”

 

C.C. gave her a bland stare, and Nunnally only held her hands up yieldingly. “...If it’s answers you seek, then you don’t need this power. There’s no one to fight against, and no higher power to attain. Normally, I would tell you no. You stand to gain nothing from this, just as I stand to gain nothing. And Zero was right… Lelouch would not have wanted this for you.”

 

Again with the ‘nothing to gain’ concept. She wondered why C.C. granted power in the first place, if there was nothing to gain from this— wasn’t she like Nunnally, in that there was nothing more to gain? Perhaps not the title of Empress, but from rumors, C.C. was immortal. She held power. What could she possibly gain by giving away power?

 

She wondered if it was alright to ask at this point. She was so accustomed to questions not being answered, and the tension that would come with her asking questions she wasn’t supposed to… But Nunnally wanted that to change.

 

“...What do you want from the Contract?” She asked hesitantly, and wondered what C.C. could have wanted from her brother. Lelouch was a great many things, but before he had become Emperor, before he had become Zero, even, he had been nothing more than a normal schoolboy in hiding from the Empire.

 

(Well, he had always been more than just normal.)

 

C.C.’s amber gaze was strikingly, staring deep into her. “...That is a wish for me to keep.”

 

“But you’ve already said that I can’t fulfill it, just as you can’t fulfill my wish.” Nunnally protest. “At least we’ll be on equal terms that way, right? And if you already know what my wish is, doesn’t that mean I should know what yours is as well? I— what if it’s something I could help with, even if I can’t fulfill it on my own?”

 

That made C.C. smile for a moment before reaching out to lay a hand against Nunnally’s cheek, much like Lelouch used to do. “...You’re sweet. Too optimistic, but I can see why he was so desperate to protect you.”

 

Each mention of her brother made her heart clench, but Nunnally wasn’t going to let it deter her anymore.

 

“You should tell me.” She insisted. “You’ll only be cutting off options if I don’t know.”

 

C.C. didn’t. “...Maybe one day.”

 

Zero strode into the room before she had a chance to inquire further, and C.C. took a step away from Nunnally, her hands falling back to her sides as the masked knight very pointedly glared at their closeness.

 

He didn’t remove his mask, but instead extended his own hand, trustingly, to Nunnally.

 

“Well. Shall we?”


	3. Vincit Omnia Veritas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been really busy lately, I have so much to catch up on. Luckily I didn't really add or change anything this chapter, although I'll have to add a scene in the next chapter since I kept one in brackets. Holidays sneaking up on me, and I'm really glad a lot of this was written in advance. As the next chapter comes on Boxing Day (or Christmas, considering my tradition of leaving at 5am Boxing Day), hope everyone has a happy holidays! Promise, things will actually start happening in the story soon, but Nunnally's distracted by going through a lot of emotions so far.

The world was dark around her, and Nunnally was almost certain that she was dreaming, the black soothing and warm in a way that it hadn’t been for years. There was the sound of waves crashing against rocks, just faintly, and the tiniest bit distorted enough for her to recognize that it was a false sound— a recording rather than an environmental effect. But it was soothing in its repetitive motions, and the sheets underneath her was soft, and the blanket warm atop her.

 

_A waking dream, then?_ She wondered drowsily, the palms of her hands smoothing over the soft sheets, slow and lazy in the soft darkness. She didn’t mind, not when her day had been so hectic and emotional beforehand. She and C.C. and Suzaku had talked, and…

 

There was a soft murmuring from a distance away, muffled by the closed door. She wondered if it was Teresa, up far too early as usual in order to get the cleaning done before Nunnally herself even got up. But no, it couldn’t be early yet— she felt like she barely got any sleep at all. And it felt late at night to her, rather than early morning.

 

She breathed deep, and smiled. Lavender and chamomile. How nostalgic. What a pleasant half-dream this was… or perhaps a full dream? She couldn’t tell, only turning a little to get more comfortable under the warm covers as the sound of waves lulled her to an even more relaxed state.

 

She could hear the door open slightly, but it didn’t alarm her in the slightest even as quiet footsteps approached. She smiled at the scent of lavender and jasmine tickled her nose, so familiar and even more comforting than the waves, than the soft bed, than the soothing dark.

 

It felt like all her worries were floating away, like she was lighter than air and nothing in the world could possibly harm her while she was enveloped in that scent.

 

Cool fingers smoothed back her bangs, and she could feel the slightest pressure atop her hair, soft and gentle as a voice breathed out, “Goodnight, Nunnally. Sweet dreams.”

 

It was the embodiment of warmth and comfort, and she—

 

She—!

 

She jerked to attention, startled by the light pressure on her arm.

 

“I sincerely apologize for startling you, Your Majesty,” Cecile Croomy told her, retracting her hand with a worried frown. “You seem to have nodded off there. Have you been getting enough rest?”

 

There were no soft sheets, no warm blankets and soothing ocean recordings, no scent of lavender and—

 

She was in her conference room, the lights on dim as the orange rays of sunset filtered gently through vaulted French windows behind her. She was surrounded by darkly polished wood, from bookcases to tables, to the hard chair underneath her, and she looked up and around her to catch the brief glisten of dust motes in the air from the small patches that the maids must not have found around books or valuables.

 

Nina Einstein and Rakshata Chawla stood before her desk, wearing white lab coats and looking just as worried as Cecile.

 

“I— I must have.” Nunnally sat up more attentively, shifting in the seat as the metal braces on her legs dug into her skin. “I’m sorry about that, Nina. Rakshata. It— it’s been a little bit of a strange day for me.”

 

“If you need more time off, Your Majesty…” Cecile said gently, “then you have people who are willing to handle your meetings”

 

“I’ve already taken yesterday off,” Nunnally dismissed, but smiled nevertheless at the concern. “I’m fine, Cecile. Really. I’m sorry to have worried you. I must have nodded off for just a moment— it’s so nice and warm here, but that’s unprofessional of me. I am truly interested in your reports, and—”

 

“There’s no need for that!” Nina insisted, waving her clipboard just slightly in protest while Rakshata stayed silent, the familiar pipe in her mouth empty of smoke while indoors. “If you’re feeling under the weather, Your Majesty, then our reports can wait for a later time. The research is coming along slowly, and there wasn’t much to report this week, it seems…”

 

Her smile strained a little, but Nunnally nodded along as Nina spoke quickly of the little progress the science team had made in their newest projects. With the near unanimous decision to dismantle the most dangerous weapons of war that had been developed in the past two decades, she had been encouraging the development of more medicines instead, and inventions that might help the general populace in everyday matters.

 

With their report finished, the two scientists bowed briefly and made their leave, and Nunnally slumped back into her chair, closing her eyes briefly as she raised her hands to rub at her face.

 

It was… it was such a _striking_ dream…

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

The hesitant tone made Nunnally peek from behind her fingers at Cecile, the older woman standing at perfect military attention even in her heels and lab coat, face a picture of concern.

 

“Yes, Miss Cecile?” Nunnally said, giving her own face one more particularly hard rub to wake herself up, and then lowering her hands to her lap.

 

The older woman seemed to hesitate for a moment before straightening even more and cautiously asking, “If I may ask..?”

 

Nunnally just waited in response.

 

“Some of the guards have remarked on your… guest.” She paused, looking a little uncomfortable with the subject. “I don’t mean to pry, but… their description sounded very— specific.”

 

Of course Cecile would be familiar with C.C., just like Earl Asplund would have been. The two of them tended to follow where the Lancelot was, and with Suzaku as it’s pilot, they would have been with her brother during the end, when C.C. was also with him. While she didn’t know just how acquainted they would be, Nunnally had already taken into account that there would be more than a few people around the palace would would recognize the long green hair.

 

And perhaps recognize how C.C. didn’t look a day older despite it having been five years.

 

She wondered how much Cecile, and how much the others, knew. They must have been there for the final bits, but did they even know that Suzaku was still alive? Did they stick around till the end? With Suzaku’s supposed ‘death’, the Lancelot Albion would have been out of commission, and if that were the case, then Nunnally had never quite figured out whether the two scientists had stuck around afterward.

 

“It’s C.C., yes,” Nunnally admitted, deciding to stick with the truth. Just… creatively. “Before this recent bout, I hadn’t seen her since Ashford.”

 

“Ashford?” Cecile raised a hand to her mouth in thought, eyes wide as she reconsidered things. “I thought…”

 

“That’s where I met her,” Nunnally said. “She used to visit, and fold cranes with me. I used to think she was another student, and then when I was— taken back to Pendragon, I lost contact with her. It wasn’t until recently that I ran into her, so I invited her to stay since she’s sightseeing the capitol.”

 

While she looked perfectly accepting, Nunnally could feel the undercurrent of doubt.

 

“And…” the scientist asked, “Where is she now? How long is she going to stay?”

 

“Oh, I’m sure she’s with Zero,” Nunnally responded, carefully looking away as if she wasn’t looking for Cecile’s reaction to that fact. “The whole palace is new to her, and I asked him to guide her around today so that she doesn’t get lost.”

 

(“I know how to stay hidden,” C.C. said with a sniff just the day before, after the long conversations. She had occupied herself with braiding and unbraiding her own hair as Suzaku and Nunnally exhausted themselves with talking. “You don’t need to worry about me being caught by the wrong people. I’ve learned my lesson before.”

 

“Another thing you’re not going to tell us?” Suzaku snarked at her.

 

“Another thing that has nothing to do with you.” She dismissed with a wave.)

 

Nunnally rubbed at her right eye, trying to will away the itchiness. Maybe she would ask a maid for eye drops; she must have been reading too much in the low light, and Nunnally didn’t feel like being nagged for glasses. She just got her vision back, and she didn’t want to impair it any.

 

“I don’t know how long she’s going to stay,” she answered Cecile’s other question, “but I did tell her that she would be welcome as long as she liked. If that’s all, Miss Cecile, I hope you don’t mind, but I may retire to my quarters now. Maybe I _am_ more tired than I initially thought…”

 

At that, Cecile hurriedly excused herself as well, and Nunnally sighed when she was left alone in the large office, her dim and warm and utterly silent office.

 

Her dream was already fading away from her, but Nunnally tried to grab hold to as much as she could. It felt as real as a memory, and her heart ached for it. Suzaku’s admissions and revelations were sharp in her mind, and it flavored her memories with something dark and sad.

 

(The worst of that, perhaps, was C.C.’s reluctant admission regarding Euphemia li Britannia’s death, stunning Suzaku to silence for a great many minutes.

 

“I’ll tell you now,” C.C. said then, “Geass is a dangerous power. I did not warn Lelouch about what might happen, but neither did I expect the geass to develop so fast in him. It usually takes years before it gets uncontrollable, hence why most contractors start as children. By comparison, I got to him late, yet he still developed the power to a point where it went wild within the span of only a few months. I never had the time to properly warn and prepare him. If you accept my power, Nunnally, then it will be something that happens to you as well— perhaps months, perhaps years, in the future.”)

 

She still had the memories of grief, intense and incensed, but dulled within her thanks to the passing of time. She could remember how much her brother regretted what happened to Euphemia, but she hadn’t been able to glean exactly why that was. She knew, of course, that it was Zero who shot her, that Euphie had been backstage for just a scant few minutes before she came out and massacred thousands within the Special Administrative Zone.

 

Euphie… she had never been violent or cruel, and Nunnally was herself been too grieved then to have even imagined what her brother must have felt. In those days after the SAZ, she had been gripped with fear that something terrible would also befall Lelouch, because if even sweet, innocent Euphie had lost herself to the madness of the royal family, then surely she couldn’t trust any royal outside of herself and her brother.

 

By the time she found out that Lelouch was Zero all along, she had been distracted by another grief: screaming over the death of her brother this time, too emotional to fully comprehend that Euphemia’s madness must have been caused by Geass— that perhaps the person mad in the situation was Lelouch himself.

 

She couldn’t comprehend it, and therefore tried not to think upon it.

 

An uncontrollable Geass explained things, though. To have the power of Absolute Obedience, and then have Euphemia leave a meeting with him ready to massacre the Japanese people that she had given up her own royal privilege to help… it was suspicious, and she could see why Suzaku thought what he did.

 

But it also didn’t make sense to her why Suzaku would ever think that Lelouch would ever want to use Euphie for that purpose. Why would he want the Japanese people dead? Why would he use Euphie? As cruel as it sounded, it would have been better to use Cornelia for that purpose, if he was truly going to use one of the royal family in Japan to start the Black Rebellion.

 

It wa a cold logic, but one Nunnally had no trouble coming to.

 

Perhaps that was the very same madness in her blood as well.

 

If it was, and if her brother had truly been mad, then Nunnally would have welcomed it gladly as something else that connect her to Lelouch, and something that might help her better understand him.

 

Most sisters would not have done so; would have distanced themselves from a family suffering a history of madness, but Nunnally wasn’t most. She spent most of her life under the care of her brother, the very same one who had given up so much in order to raise her and keep her safe.

 

Most sisters, she reasoned, would not be empress because their brother had left them a changed, _better_ world under their care. Because he did all the dirty work, changed all the laws that would have left the privileged hating him, and then made himself a villain to unite even the ruling and common class.

 

She leaned back against the chair and rested a hand over her eyes, covering them to try and simulate the darkness in her dream. It had been so warm, so safe… It should have been terrifying to think of, to be blind and crippled once again, but that hadn’t been on the forefront of her mind.

 

Instead, she lingered on the long lost feeling of safety and contently. The fingers in her hair, the kiss pressed atop her head.

 

_“Good night, Nunnally. Sweet dreams.”_

 

It was… she bit down on her lower lip, concentrating on the small spike of pain in her heart. God, she couldn’t understand it herself. She couldn’t understand how it was that she could still miss him so much, even after five years and an entirely changed world.

 

After a few minutes, Nunnally finally managed to push herself away from the desk and stand, testing out her tingling legs. Maybe she really should talk to Earl Asplund about the adjustment. It was normally fine, but apparently falling asleep in the brace left a terrible feeling.

 

She felt fine physically, or as fine as she could get, considering the spinal damage that couldn’t be healed. The nap must have been mental and emotional exhaustion, then, and Nunnally resigned herself to that fact. Every bit of information was worth more than gold to her, and still she felt starved for more.

 

It was lucky that there didn’t seem all that much to do recently, and that peace made the world so very quiet. Sometimes it made her wonder if this was all a dream, because even when she had been blind, things felt so much sharper and clearer to her. The constant worry of being discovered by the royal family in the back of her mind, the fear of anything beyond her arm’s reach, the hot and the cold and everything in-between… it all felt so much more _real_ back then than it did now.

 

But no. As she smoothed down her dress, Nunnally sighed to herself. It wasn’t a dream. This was the real world, and the comfort she felt before was not meant for her waking hours.

  


—

  


“What?” Suzaku’s eyes were wide, shocked, with past pain and surprise. Nunnally herself had held her breath the moment C.C. started her explanation, already knowing that it was going to be one that she needed to steel her heart for.

 

“He meant to Geass her to shoot him,” C.C. repeated with a shrug. It was hard to fathom how she could look and sound so unaffected when both Suzaku and Nunnally were devastated by the information. “He always did have that dramatic streak, and planned on playing martyr from the very beginning.”

 

“But why?” Nunnally exclaimed, hands pressed over her wildly beating heart. In her mind, she knew that it hadn’t happened, and that even if it had, it couldn’t happen now— Lelouch was already gone, and panicking over what may have been was silly on her part, but… “I thought— wasn’t he going to join her? Help her with the SAZ?”

 

Apparently, Suzaku hadn’t heard that either, as the man looked just as shocked as that statement as he had at the previous one.

 

C.C. just shrugged, her hair spilling over one shoulder with the movement. “That’s what he decided after, yes. He was always weak to his sisters, and Princess Euphemia wanted him by her side.”

 

Nunnally ran through her borrowed memories again, piecing things together. She could vaguely recall Lelouch, in a room with Euphie, without Zero’s mask as the two of them smiled. It was so strange, to know that she wasn’t in the memory herself, to see this from her brother’s point of view, but it was starting to make sense now.

 

“I believe,” C.C. continued, blind to the shock of the other two, “that he was actually about the explain Geass to her, and tell her the truth of it.”

 

“That’s impossible,” Suzaku insisted, tone barely louder than a hiss. “He wouldn’t have— he lied to _everyone_ about Geass. He wouldn’t have told Euphie such a thing. He even _told me_ —”

 

“He lied, of course,” C.C. confirmed.

 

“But _why_?”

 

She didn’t look particularly fond of having the explain it to Suzaku. “Because you, like the others, needed a demon to hate. You, especially, needed a reason to go on.”

 

She didn’t notice it at first, but Nunnally eventually noticed just how hard Suzaku’s hands were shaking at the information, at the insistence that Lelouch must have meant harm to Euphie. He couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the fact that Lelouch felt anything other than hatred for his family, for anyone other than Nunnally herself.

 

She didn’t know how to tell him about those days from her childhood— young and innocent still, when she and Euphie used to fight over who would eventually marry Lelouch when they all grew up, about Lelouch running away from them whenever they started clinging to him and complaining to mother about how he didn’t want to be involved in their arguments. About how Cornelia had tried her best to explain that neither of them could marry Lelouch because they were all _siblings_ , and how neither Euphemia nor Nunnally listened to her about that.

 

She didn’t know how to explain to Suzaku that her brother used to laugh freely, and braid flower crowns for her and Euphie, had complained when Clovis would drag the vi Britannia siblings into a portrait, and shadow Schneizel’s footsteps to plead for games of chess. That he used to prank Guinevere and Carine for making fun of Nunnally, and that he used to be— sweet. Uncomprehending of the darkness of a human heart. And that it wasn’t fake, wasn’t just some dream.

 

She didn’t know how to explain that he had been a _happy_ child, just as she had been happy, before their mother was murdered. And that no matter how much he might hate the royal family before he died, it didn’t erase the fact that he also used to love them very much.

 

She just couldn’t explain how Lelouch used to learn Euphie’s favorite songs so he could play them for her on the piano, and how Nunnally used to get so mad about that because she wanted him to play _her_ favorite songs.

 

She didn’t know how to explain to him the tension and fear she and Lelouch shared when Suzaku had been televised on international television as the murderer of Prince Clovis, although she suspected he must have worked out Zero’s reasons to rescue him. Nunnally didn’t know how to confirm to Suzaku that Lelouch always loved very fiercely and deeply, and that he went to great lengths to protect those he loved, even if it would hurt himself in return.

 

“He did.” C.C. cut Suzaku off. “No matter what you believe.”

 

“How could you have known?” He demanded, shaking worsening. “Did he tell you that? Because Lelouch is a liar— he’s always playing things off, always lying about his innocence—”

 

“I was the one person he could not lie to.” C.C. said coldly. “Our contract prevented that. And… I wasn’t important enough in his plans for him to lie to. I was the one person he could not lie to, and Nunnally was the one person he _would not_ lie to.”

 

“But he lied to her, too!” He shoved himself away from where they were sitting, form looming over the two of them in his rage. “The entire time, Lelouch lied to even Nunnally!”

 

“And what?” C.C. asked, unphased by the threat. “Are you angry about that fact… for her?”

 

That seemed to stop him, although Suzaku tensed his jaw and looked so disapproving that Nunnally didn’t need to look his direction to feel it.

 

“I _am_ angry at him,” Nunnally spoke up, although in contrast to Suzaku, she only hunched over, wrapping her arms around her waist protectively. In contrast, she couldn’t bring herself to sound angry at all— only tired. “I wish he had told me. I wish he let me help him. I just wish—” She swallowed heavily. “I wish I could have done something. Helped him. Stopped him.”

 

_I wish I hadn’t been so weak._

 

C.C. shook her head. “Above all else, Lelouch wanted to protect you. He would have considered it another failure on his part if you had been involved. As it was…”

 

“As it was, I got involved anyway,” Nunnally finished for her softly.

 

“Yes.”

 

Nunnally took a deep, shaky breath, and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes until she could see shapes and afterimages burned into her retinas.

  


—

  


The room was so, so familiar to her and yet not, and Nunnally huddled in her bed for a long moment before recognition started to kick in.

 

It was her own room, just made otherworldly by the the shadows in the dark, by the chair near her desk covered with clothes so it looked like a looming monster staring at her through the night. The gold handles of her closet looked like teeth, almost, like the doors were a wide mouth ready to open and swallow her up.

 

She could the heavy ticking of a grandfather clock in the hall, and the wind howling outside her window through branches and airy architecture. Nunnally was tempted to throw the blankets over her own head for a long moment and pretend that the world wasn’t suddenly a scary place to be in, but then decided against it as the wild winds outside threw a broken twig against the glass panes of her window, making her jump out of bed entirely and race toward the door.

 

She wasn’t even thinking straight, didn’t care that anyone could see her run down the hallways in her nightgown, only thinking of how scary even the hallways were at night, despite the ensconces every few feet all alit. The grand paintings in the palace and the the heavy woodwork she passed looked just as menacing as the shadows in her room, and Nunnally raced past them quick as she could, breathless.

 

She didn’t stop to knock, but instead fumbled with the doorknob for longer than she would have liked, and threw herself into the room the moment it opened, nearly stumbling in her haste as she raced across the spacious room toward the bed and jumped right up in one flying leap.

 

There was a pained ‘oomph’ even as Nunnally scrambled to hide under the covers, knowing that if she hid _here_ , then the monsters outside wouldn’t be able to get her.

 

“Nu’nly? Wha—?”

 

She peeked a little bit from under the covers very quickly, just so she could press a finger to her lips and let out as loud a ‘shhhh!’ as she dared, and then disappeared under the covers again as sleepy purple eyes blinked at her.

 

It took her a few more moments before she appeared again, guiltily, and told her brother, “There were monsters outside my window.”

 

As if on cue, the wind outside picked up again, rustling the leaves of the tree right outside Lelouch’s window violently, and Nunnally yelped, once again burying her face under the covers, even if she managed to elbow against Lelouch’s side painfully.

 

That seemed to wake him up more, and Lelouch only groaned and buried his face into his pillow, well-used to his little sister’s antics. “‘S not monsters, Nun’ly.”

 

“It _is,_ ” she insisted from under the heavy blankets, and then continued, “and the knights are all with mother! What if something comes to _eat_ us?”

 

“Then I’ll stop it. Go to sleep, Nunnally.”

 

“ _Lelouch._ ” She whined. While she knew she was safe with him, she didn’t believe him at all on that point. What could her brother, who was only as big as Euphie despite being older than her, do against _monsters_? She pulled the covers until she could see again, and pouted at him aggressively.

 

His eyes were already closed again, though, and she was about to sigh as loud as she could when he finally lifted an arm.

 

_Victory!_ Nunnally made a happy noise as she threw herself at her brother, hugging him tightly around the chest in a move that usually had him complaining about needing to breathe. This time, he just wrapped an arm around her, patting at her hair gently for a moment before his breath started to even out once again.

 

Nunnally wiggled a bit to get comfortable, but then felt she just _had_ to correct her brother. “If the monsters come, will you get eaten first so that I can to find mother?”

 

“ _Nunnally._ ”

 

“She could take care of them.” She thought aloud, and then nodded decisively, bumping her brother’s chin with the top of her head each time. “And she’d have the knights, too. And Cornelia! She can fight monsters.”

 

“And I can outsmart them,” her brother claimed, despite still not opening his eyes. “But only if we stay very, very quiet. So we can surprise the monsters, okay?”

 

That made sense. Nunnally nodded again, and then rested her head against her brother’s arm. She willed herself to go back to sleep, closing her eyes for moments at a time before she felt compelled to open them again, because she had to make sure of her surroundings and that if the monsters were really coming (just because she was safe now didn’t mean she couldn’t be prepared!), then she’d be able to warn her brother.

 

“...Lelouch?” She whispered quietly after a few minutes, and her brother did nothing more than hum a soft acknowledgement. “Promise?”

 

He made a more curious noise, and Nunnally explained, “That you’ll beat the monsters, too. So they can’t ever get you.”

 

He was unresponsive for a moment, and Nunnally thought he had finally fallen asleep again before he pressed a hand against her hair again before rubbing his knuckles against her scalp as she giggled.

 

“Promise. I’m stuck with you.”

  


—

  


There were fresh tear tracks on her face when she woke, and Nunnally stared at the ceiling (white, gilded with gold, a wide and excessive chandelier with glittering crystals crowning the dome shape) as she let them continue to flow.

 

Another dream. It was to be expected, now that she finally got to— to _talk_ about her brother, after so long. It didn’t feel like a dream, though, but like a memory, but so clear when she must have been so young. Four? Five? The Lelouch of her dream didn’t look older than eight, his hair still in that silly near-bob cut that their mother used to do, which made Nunnally refuse to let their mother cut her hair.

 

_Monsters_. She must have been so silly as a young child. In that manner, Lelouch was right— there had been no monsters in the entire world able to outsmart him. Yet the monsters had gotten him anyway.

 

_“Lelouch… you’re a monster!”_

 

She couldn’t take back those words; would never be able to undo them. It wasn’t until too late that she could remember the earlier part of the conversation which lead to that point.

 

“ _Nunnally, you are already leading a way of life with your own set of admirable principles. That is why I can walk my own path now. I love you._ ”

 

She stared blankly at the ceiling and thought of how she was so, so tired of crying.

 

When was it all supposed to get better?

  


—

  


“The boy next to my brother,” Nunnally asked after a few minutes of silence for both her and Suzaku to digest information they hadn’t known (because _of course_ her brother shouldered the blame for Euphemia’s death when he thought himself alone in the world when it came to Geass), “In— in his school pictures. I asked Kallen. I tried to ask Milly about it, but— it was like she didn’t know me, and I couldn’t…”

 

She trailed off, unable to hide the hurt in her voice. The Ashford family had taken her and her brother in for nearly half her life, and they had all but grown up with Milly, yet the older girl hadn’t an inkling of who she was when they spoke.

 

_Geass_ , she concluded, but it seemed rather excessive. It wasn’t just Milly who couldn’t remember her— it was like Nunnally’s entire existence at Ashford Academy, in Japan in general, had been wiped. From the databases, from the school, from the minds of everyone she ever spoke to.

 

It had been painful, trying to find her former classmates, former friends…

 

(Alice just gave a nervous smile and sloppy curtsy, unable to recall having ever met her at all, much less ever claiming that she would stay with Nunnally forever. And how could that have possibly been Lelouch’s fault? Even if she were to believe that he was supposedly behind all of this, while she told him a great deal about the going-ons in her life, and he always paid attention, he couldn’t possibly have known _everyone_ she ever met.)

 

“Kallen said his name was Rolo.” Nunnally’s voice was very small, even to herself. “Rolo Lamperouge.”

 

C.C. looked on disinterestedly, while Suzaku couldn’t seem to hide the flash of guilt over his expression. She grit her teeth, wondering just what it was _this time_. From the memories she got from her brother, he had seen ‘Rolo’ as a little brother, had felt guilt— and Nunnally knew that Rolo died, and in a way that inspired a mountain of guilt from her brother. She had a blurry memory of the boy slumped over a Knightmare seat, eyes dark.

 

She used to spend evenings staring at the school pictures, an ugly emotion in her heart as she stared at the boy standing timidly, demurely, next to her big brother, and smiling in such an uncertain way. He looked like such a sweet person, and had they met in any other situation, Nunnally would have gone out of her way to befriend him.

 

Except all that she could feel after this fact was: replaced. Betrayed. It was worse that he looked a lot like her, that he seemed to have some of her mannerisms, and but had the same supernaturally violet eyes that belonged to her brother.

 

Rolo Lamperouge looked more like Lelouch’s younger sibling  than she did, and Nunnally used to smile when her classmates could immediately tell that she was his little sister.

 

She hated those dark, stilted feelings of jealousy, and just wanted to _understand_.

 

“I don’t care how bad it was,” she said tiredly. “I don’t care if things were awful, or wonderful, or anything in between. I don’t care what he did. I just want to know. Please. Just tell me who he was.”

 

It was a long, unpleasant story that she had to pry from both C.C. and Suzaku (mostly due to the fact that C.C. hadn’t wanted to reveal much of Rolo beyond his relation to Lelouch, reluctant to talk about the Geass Directorate, and… _what_?), exposing the fact that it hadn’t just been Lelouch who had the power of Geass.

 

She had known, vaguely, about their mother and father, but…

 

Rolo, too, had a Geass. He could stop a person’s perception of time, according to C.C., or a group of people if they were all within his range. There had been a large number of children armed with Geass as well, gunned down by the Black Knights, and later on by Suzaku.

 

She had prepared herself for the worst, but still Nunnally couldn’t stop the churning in her gut at the thought of groups of innocent children, all slaughtered because they had a power that others couldn’t control.

 

(A power that she was now petitioning C.C. for.)

 

She learned of how Emperor Charles (their _father_ ) had rewritten Lelouch’s memories, and the memories of everyone at Ashford. She remembered being taken to Pendragon around this time, and being told that she had been ‘found’ and ‘saved’, and that now that they knew she was still alive, everyone would be on the lookout for her brother as well. That she deserved a better life, as a Princess of Britannia. That Lelouch was in danger.

 

All this time, and it had been their father who orchestrated this down to the last detail.

 

C.C. related following Lelouch’s trail to Europia, where he had been given a new identity along with new memories, but how even under Geass, Lelouch could not be _controlled_ the way the Emperor wanted. He would break from the control from time to time, causing more problems rather than solving them, and thus he had been sent back to Japan with another set of new memories, this time to be used as bait to lure C.C. back to the Directorate.

 

Yet the second attempt had failed as well. They had attempted the simulation as close to his original memories as possible, yet the girl who had been sent to replace Nunnally had been killed by another member of the Geass Directorate, and finally they introduced Rolo to keep an eye on Lelouch.

 

“But your brother is a charming bastard,” C.C. said, around a mouthful of pizza that Nunnally had ordered up for her as the hours dragged on in their conversation. She smirked, looking awfully fond. “He won Rolo over until he eventually defected from the Dictatorate.”

 

“What happened to him? Rolo?” Nunnally asked quietly.

 

“He died.” C.C. told her, Suzaku suspiciously silent. She waved a hand in dismissal, and Nunnally would have thought her cold-hearted if she hadn’t already witnessed just how little C.C. allowed to affect her. “Saving your brother. From the Black Knights, no less.”

 

She knew that, of course. Objectively, she remembered his death, and remembered Lelouch’s regret, but hearing it aloud was both a relief and also painful.

 

If he had lived, would he have been able to do what Nunnally could not? Would Rolo have been able to find a better path for her brother?

 

She wished she could ask him, but that wasn’t to be. Instead, she focused on the truth about her brother she had constantly been searching for.

 

“Is that why,” she mused, eyes downcast, “that time when I thought I found him… I heard his voice over the phone, but…”

 

He wouldn’t have remembered her at that point.

 

C.C. was quiet alongside Suzaku for a moment before she sighed, looking very put upon as she set down her slice of pizza carefully on a plate.

 

“No,” she said, “he knew who you were. It was a… delicate time.”

 

Suzaku continued to stay silent.

 

“His greatest fear from the very beginning was getting you involved,” C.C. told her tonelessly. “He didn’t figure on you getting yourself involved instead.”

 

Nunnally balled her hands into fists, staring at her whitened knuckles.

 

“A lot of things happened. Enough that even I don’t remember the placement of everything and everyone. Your brother had a talent for keeping track of many schemes at once. I certainly couldn’t keep track of them all. I was… unavailable for a time as well. As such, he was completely alone after Rolo died. Even before that death, Lelouch had been... different. He grieved for you. He threw away battles to save you, when you were captured by the empire. But even with the Black Knights, and the development of the UFN, he couldn't manage it.”

 

“What did he do then?” She asked.

 

“He came to me.” Suzaku finally spoke up. He refused to look at them. “To beg me to save you.”

 

It made sense— would make sense— if only Suzaku hadn’t revealed earlier that he had been the one to bring Lelouch to the emperor, needing retribution for Euphemia’s death. He hadn’t said it, but Nunnally knew that he hadn’t been able to kill Lelouch, but also hadn’t been able to let him walk away. In the end, even Suzaku had been betrayed when he learned that the Emperor had the power of Geass— and that as punishment, Suzaku had been assigned to watch over Lelouch’s first alternate persona.

 

But Nunnally _knew_ her brother, better than anyone, and she knew just how proud he was. While she understood that he would have thrown away all his pride in order to save her (and she would have done the same), the shame and hurt would have made Lelouch seek anyone else for help— anyone but Suzaku.

 

Nunnally could hardly remember what happened during the battle of Tokyo. Things had been chaotic, and there had been heat and the brightest light despite her closed eyelids... she awoke, apparently months later, with no memory of what happened between that time. Worried about the people around her, the people fighting, and for her brother's safety, Nunnally had been at a weak point when Schneizel soothed her and told her that he rescued her— and that it had been Lelouch who betrayed her. Lelouch who was behind the mask, manipulating the Black Knights under Geass. That he caused the FLEIJA in Tokyo with no regard to her own safety or the safety of millions of people, and that the Black Knights themselves could confirm this, especially seeing as Lelouch threw them away and showed up in Pendragon, this time declaring himself Emperor after the murder of their father.

 

It was all so unbelieveable... and yet so wholly rational to her. Of course Lelouch would be Zero. Of course Lelouch would kill their father. Even when nothing else seemed right to her, the seeds of what felt like truth buried themselves in her mind, until Nunnally was certain that the only way to save Lelouch anymore was to listen to what Schneizel said... because Schneizel would win the battle, and he would bring Lelouch back to her, and then Nunnally would be able to get through to her brother.

 

But in that time she was unconscious, all these things happened to him between the road with the Black Knights to the road to become Emperor. What happened while she had been in charge of Japan? How come he hadn't— of course he had come for her. But as a Princess, and new Viceroy, Nunnally would be protected by everything that the empire had to offer after Zero already killed two royal children. She remembered how Suzaku had 'saved' her from Zero before, and now she couldn't help but resent that. How would things have worked out had she been captured? Would her brother have told her the truth at that point? Trusted her with it?

 

Instead, he had been betrayed by the Black Knights, with C.C. unavailable to him and Rolo dead… but before all of that, when he needed help rescuing her, was there anyone else Lelouch could have counted on?

 

(What about Sayoko? Jeremiah? Why _Suzaku_?)

 

No matter how much Lelouch tried to act nonchalant about it, she knew just how he hated their father. That was how she believed Schneizel's words about how their father died. And if anyone had betrayed him to their father…

 

“I’m glad,” Nunnally said, unable to comprehend the thought and thus turning away from it for the moment, “That you helped him. And I’m glad… that even when I was gone, he had Rolo.”

 

It was such a lie, and she didn’t know if she said things like that because that was what was expected of her, or because it was so satisfying to seeing the flinch from the man still dressed as Zero. She just didn’t know anymore.

 

And what would she have done if she had been able to change things?

 

Nunnally didn’t know the answer to that.

  


—

  


“—and the Prime Minister of France has requested your presence at his annual charity ball this year as well. The invite was a little late this time, although that’s more to do with the recent recent flooding and rebuilding. Apparently a good amount of mail had been lost in the mudslides, and it was such low priority that no one thought to check for the official invites until yesterday. Should I send a confirmation for you?”

 

“...Yes.” Nunnally agreed after a moment’s thought, murmuring another thanks as a sharply dressed noble handed her another document to sign. She skimmed over the paper briefly before doing so, trusting her aides to have filtered through all the most ridiculous requests before it ever got to her. “Thank you for helping me manage this, Kanon.”

 

He gave a nod, bowing in a textbook courtly manner.

 

“Should I send for the tailors, then?”

 

“No need.” Nunnally told him, despite his frown at her words. “It won’t kill me to wear dresses that are already in my wardrobe. Maybe the blue one. I’ll figure it out.”

 

“If Your Majesty would allow,” Kanon said with clear disapproval, the tablet with her schedule clasped to his chest as he frowned, “It’s uncouth for the royal family, especially the Empress, to be reusing gowns at official events.”

 

“I’ve only worn that one— what?”

 

“Six times in the past two years.” Kanon recounted for her sternly. “Including at the televised Christmas Ball last year, which means the dress has already been introduced to the general populace.”

 

She sighed. It was an old argument with them, now that Kanon’s services meant he spent half his time with her, and the other half of his time attending to Prince Schneizel. She was glad he was finally arguing back with her, since she was used to him following Schneizel’s every order, but she didn’t think that she’d have to defend such trivial decisions.

 

It felt like such a farce, that she had to defend her decisions about her own wardrobe. Emperor Charles had the same outfit for every occasion, dressed in an overly extravagant military uniform. Cornelia had followed in his footsteps and attended the majority of formal balls in uniform as well. Schneizel did the same, and even Lelouch, in those months—

 

But it was expected of her to look beautiful at every event, when she had better things to do with her time and other ways to spend her personal budget without dipping thousands into gowns every few weeks.

 

She thought of the crystalline sculptures she had been eyeing, and the artisans she kept cards of, and how long it would take before she could find a way to subtly get into contact with them to commission the sculptures she thought of adding underneath the palace. She would much rather spend her own money on frivolous items like that rather than on _dresses_ and jewelry.

 

“The pink one, then,” she tried to dismiss. It didn’t matter what she wore, really.

 

“ _Your Majesty_.” Kanon insisted, and with the past several days being what they were, Nunnally finally wilted a little. He was far too good at corralling royalty.

 

“Fine,” she conceded easily, giving the crystals one last wistful thought before pushing them for a little further in the future. It would be good for her to add slowly to the garden, anyway, rather than be excessive and not have anything new to show her brother in a decade.

 

Another servant handed her a document to sign, and Nunnally skimmed over it before handing it to Kanon to double check before she gave her signature.

 

“Call the tailors, then. And inform the French Prime Minister that I have a few dresses I’d like to auction off, with proceeds going to his charity of choice. When is his ball, exactly?”

 

“This Saturday.” Kanon stated, looking relieved. “As I said, the invites were quite late. But your schedule should be clear if we just move the meeting with the Chinese Federation to the day before—”

 

She nodded, barely listening as she continued to sign documents handed to her in triplicate. She should be glad, now, that the things that kept her busiest were charity balls and celebrations, rather than emergency meetings. That she checked up more frequently on science teams for inventions to help humanity rather than weapons of war. Within the first three years, they had all but abolished world hunger. She was so excited back then, wondering what else they could do with the time she had for her future.

 

Now, everything seems to have slowed down. Into complacency, perhaps.

 

She paused in mid-signature, and looked up at Kanon with wide-eyes, startling him a step back.

 

“Your Majesty?” He asked hesitantly.

 

“Have the tailor here immediately. This afternoon. Within the hour if you can. And then you’re dismissed for the day, Kanon. I’m sure my brother Schneizel could use the company.”

 

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously, but Nunnally didn’t let that discourage her.

 

She quickly signed her signature in a flourish, and then gathered the papers, handing the stack back to a very befuddled servant before standing from her seat, her legs wobbling only a little bit before she adjusted.

 

“I’ll need to talk with someone.”

  


—

  


“Are you… sure about this, Your Majesty?”

 

Nunnally nodded, enthusiasm speeding her actions as she tapped a heavy pen against the piece of paper she had been scribbling on impatiently. “Yes. Absolutely. This is what I want.” She turned her attention to the man standing beside the tailor, looking bemused. “And you can do this, can’t you, Earl Asplund?”

 

“Saturday may be cutting it close,” the scientist drawled, but then grinned, “but I do like a challenge!”

 

“But…” The tailor, Emelen Gardel, looked uncomfortable. He had arrived at the palace within the hour, like Nunnally asked, trailed by an assistant carrying several large bags of fabric swatches and color palettes. Nunnally had dismissed his assistant the moment everything had been settled into the sitting room, and called for Earl Asplund.

 

“A white brocade,” she said, ignoring his objections as she circled parts of her drawing. “I’d like to see what you have available. “I intend to be very picky regarding the pattern.”

 

It was completely different from everything she had requested from the royal tailor before: for her dresses to be simplistic and comfortable. Heavy if needed, but with solid colors and symbols embroidered in. She had always gone for the traditional princess gowns, nothing revealing and nothing that would have anyone mistaken her for anything other than royalty.

 

Extravagant, but plain at the same time. Perhaps it showed that she cared only enough for her attire as proof of her status, and no more.

 

“And the gems?” Asplund wheedled, looking like he was quite enjoying himself.

 

“Amethysts.” Nunnally said without hesitation. “I want the color as deep as possible. I am, after all, royalty, and have been informed that I should be dressed for my _métier_.”

 

Earl Asplund nearly cackled in his glee, and Nunnally felt herself smile at his approval.

 

“And…” Gardel swallowed nervously. “And does… Lord Zero know of this?”

 

“Why would I need to report to him what I’m going to wear for a charity ball?” Nunnally asked the tailor with a wide smile. “Are you suggesting that he might disapprove?”

 

Terrified, the tailor shook his head.

 

“I know three days is very little time to prepare,” Nunnally told him sweetly. “You will be compensated extra for your time, of course. And I know of someone who might help with you the designs…”

 

As if on cue, C.C. entered the room, still dressed in the white and gold uniform that wouldn’t put her out of place among nobility. She didn’t react to the tailor, or to Earl Asplund, whose smile seemed to wilt just a little at the sight of her, but instead raised a curious eyebrow at Nunnally.

 

When the empress showed her the swiftly drawn designs and asked for her input, C.C. laughed for the very first time since she entered Pendragon.

  


—

  


“And… the man who challenged my brother?” Nunnally asked quietly. They had taken a long break, to clear their heads, but still, she wanted to get through as much as possible within the one day she managed to wheedle off for both herself and Zero.

 

“Challenged? You’ll have to specify.” C.C. told her, resting her head atop her arms on the marble table. She looked comfortable, eyes half-mast like a content cat. “A great many people have challenged your brother. A larger number wanted to try.”

 

Nunnally frowned. That was true, had to be true, even if she must have missed almost all of those people. Just how little of brother did she really know?

 

“The man,” she tried to specify, and then frowned, “...with the laugh. Who came to Ashford Academy. He wanted my brother to— pay— for something. Said he stole something from him. Something important.”

 

Nunnally hadn’t believed the crazy man then, and she still didn’t now. The man had come out of the blue one day, bypassing Sayoko’s meticulous security and steering her right out of her home without anyone the wiser. It had been frightening, because it felt like he knew everything that crossed her mind— all her tentative plans to summon help. She had touched his hand once, before he tied her up, and felt nothing but static and _madness_.

 

“ _Him_.” And this time, it was Suzaku who responded, a grimace on his face that didn’t scream guilt for the very first time. “I remember him. A madman. He set a bomb below Ashford Academy, and challenged Lelouch to a chess match.”

 

That didn’t seem right. Lelouch had told her afterward that everything was alright, that the man had been caught by the police, and that they hadn’t needed their statements (which was a relief— their fake identities were thin and Nunnally hadn’t wanted to match up to if the police could see through them or not), and that he would never bother them anymore.

 

But to challenge her brother to a chess match? It was preposterous.

 

“Is that how he lost?” Nunnally asked contemplatively. While she hadn’t played against him herself, there was no way anyone could have defeated her brother in a strategy game. Not even Schneizel, she believed in her heart. The only reason brother Schneizel had defeated her brother before so soundly and consistently, was because Lelouch had been ten years younger, and a mere child at that time.

 

She remembered being afraid during that time, and that laugh— the laugh of someone who knew her most intimate fears, and could expose them to the world.

 

She hadn’t been able to say much to him, but the brief things she had said— that he wouldn’t get away with it, that her brother would find her and stop him, had incited nothing but laughter.

 

(“Your precious brother took something from me.” He told her, tightening the ropes. “The most precious thing to me! So I will take from him his most precious thing, and then he’ll see.”)

 

She remembered the rushing sounds of water, of a giant clock and ticking, and the cold air of underground. She remembered that Suzaku had found her that time, and assured her as she panicked, saying her brother was taking care of the kidnapper, and that he was there to get her back to Sayoko.

 

“...He is yet another example of what happens when Geass becomes uncontrollable: a runaway.” C.C. told her. “It drove him mad.”

 

Nunnally bit her lower lip in thought. “But it didn’t drive my brother mad.”

 

Suzaku looked like he wanted to protest that, but kept his silence.

 

“...What was his Geass?” Nunnally asked. If Lelouch could command people to do anything, and Charles could rewrite memories… Rolo could stop the perception of time, and… what could her mother do? Something that allowed her to survive the assassination attempt, and something to do with Anya.

 

“He could hear the thoughts of others. Toward the end, he couldn’t stop hearing the thoughts of everyone around him.”

 

That sounded awful. Crippling. Nunnally couldn’t imagine hearing the innermost thoughts of everyone around her, all the time. Would she be able to differentiate between her own thoughts and that of others’?

 

“Knowing that, would you still consider the power of kings to be a blessing?” C.C. asked, gazing at Nunnally from the cradle of her arms. “A power you can avoid easily enough. Lelouch’s contract started when his life was threatened, but that will not be the case here.”

 

Nunnally didn’t ask about that situation. She didn’t think she could handle any more truths for the day.

 

“He didn’t have the change the world with it, either.” She said instead. “He could have just used it in self-interest. I… I do still want it. I want to know, to understand this power that has surrounded my family for so long. I want to break from the cycle, to have the power and not need to use it to conquer the world. I don’t need to, not when I’m already Empress. Who knows? Maybe this will help me— find a way to retire from the position, instead. I think I’d like to do that. Every year, there’s less for me to do.”

 

“And what could be a better job than Empress of Britannia?”

 

“I always did considering being a kindergarten teacher.” Nunnally admitted.

 

C.C. chuckled lowly, and even Suzaku spared a smile. “Involving yourself with the power of kings even if you don’t have to… you really are his little sister.”

 

“I am.” She confirmed, but her smile dropped. “...But I’m not like that. Everything my brother did… even if it seemed selfish, he always had other people in mind. But me… I am selfish. This power will likely not benefit anyone but me, in the years that I can control it.”

 

She stared back at C.C. “Will you tell me why you grant this power to people? What you want?”

 

“No.” C.C. responded. “Not yet.”


	4. Masquerade

Despite her promises to show C.C. around the new city of Pendragon, Nunnally hadn’t been able to find the time to do so beyond the single day she took off early in the week. Instead, she greeted both C.C. and Zero in the mornings, and then in the evenings, and it already felt like a dream to share her meals with them, for Suzaku to take off his mask hesitantly, but regularly, at the table. 

 

It took a few days for all the revealed information to settle in her mind, and she could see that it had taken some time for Suzaku to come to grips with some things that had been hidden to him as well. She wasn’t there for the talks he had with C.C., but could tell whenever they happened— Zero always seemed so exhausted afterward, enough that even some of her aides had tentatively asked after his health. 

 

“I have a plus one for the ball on Saturday,” she informed C.C. over their dinner two days before the event, voice bright. “Zero’s always included in any invitation for me already, so I was wondering if you’d like to come along with me?”

 

C.C.’s smile was sly, “I would love to.”

 

Originally, Nunnally used to send her extra invitations to those she knew at school— to some of her classmates (to  _ Alice _ ), and to the student council. She had high hopes that at least Milly would accept her requests, yet even Milly could not allow herself to associate with the Empress of Britannia. 

 

(She had gone back to Japan a few times, but once specifically to dig up a time capsule, desperate for proof of her own existence in the lives of her friends, only to be disappointed when her toys and her letters were missing from the heavy box. It was if she had been nothing but a dream.)

 

“I’ve also asked Jeremiah to accompany me,” she said casually, “Especially since he’s in France already… although he usually declines. He claims he’s too memorable from my brother’s term.”

 

“Well, he  _ did _ act as the Demon Emperor’s enforcer, and knight after the Knight of Zero’s death.” C.C. agreed. “He was quite a show man about it, too.”

 

Nunnally giggled. Her past experiences with Jeremiah and how the man would frantically gesture and loudly proclaim his dedication was certainly very showy, but she found that she liked the dramatic gestures. It had very little to do with the drama that the royal family used, but more because Jeremiah Gottwald himself was a very passionate man vehemently dedicated to his beliefs. 

 

“It’s really too bad, though,” Nunnally mused, “I would have liked to have him with me on events like this. I think I remember him a little bit from my childhood— or maybe I’m imagining the man who used to stand at attention guarding the doors.”

 

Indeed, there was a vague memory of a young man with teal colored hair, his back rimrod straight and looking more than a little nervous even as Nunnally would try to steal something from her mother and then be chased all over the villa for it by her brother. 

 

But her mother had scores of guards, and Nunnally didn’t know if it was a real memory or just one embellished by what she wanted to see.

 

“Either way, it would be nice to have someone else there I could freely talk to.” She said, and then turned a teasing smile toward Suzaku, “Since Zero over here never seems to like making small talk.”

 

“Ahh—” Suzaku gave a sheepish look, hunched slightly in a manner that made him seem younger. “It’s not that easy, trying to figure out what Lelouch would have said.”

 

And there was another welcome change— how freely she heard her brother’s name now. 

 

(The hole was still there, still painful, but Nunnally thought that one day, now that she could allow herself to acknowledge the grief, in however small a manner, she might finally see a future where she could heal from the hurt in her heart.)

 

“So he tries not to talk at all!” Nunnally informed C.C. conspiratorially. “Most of the time people just look at me when they’re asking him questions. I wonder how he even manages on those meetings without me.”

 

“Not well.” Suzaku conceded to her easily with a small and fond smile.

 

He was… looser now, less tense. She was glad to hear him answering her readily, especially after the five year period where it seemed like Suzaku didn’t have anyone to talk to at all. And if he did, then… well, he must have managed to keep it a secret even from her. 

 

She wondered if he was also stuck where she was, buried in grief and unable to move on.

 

“Gardel said he’d have the final fitting ready by Friday evening,” Nunnally mentioned casually, and could see C.C. turn away to hide a smirk. “So that the dress is done by Saturday morning. It’ll take some time to travel to France, after all. And I’d like to visit Paris afterward. Maybe we can spend the weekend there?”

 

“Would that work?” C.C. pointed. “Your knight here is quite the character. And you’re not exactly unknown, either.”

 

“Let’s go undercover.” Nunnally suggested instead, ignoring the last statement. “We can go shopping!”

 

“It’s been a while since I’ve shopped in Paris,” C.C. mused, and then shrugged. “That sounds good.”

 

Nunnally smiled, and for a moment she could imagine there were four people around the long dining table rather than three, but couldn’t bring herself to think upon that. Things were already perfect now, and changing things wouldn’t— 

 

“That sounds perfect.” She said warmly. 

  
  


— 

  
  


Friday night came and passed, and Nunnally managed to ensconce both herself and C.C. away from Zero’s eyes as the royal tailor did the final fittings, and the two women mused about accessories and hairstyles that would go with the dress. Earl Asplund had pulled through with his work, just as Nunnally expected he would, and the new braces around her legs looked much more lightweight and streamlined than the previous ones. 

 

Where it had been a metal frame before, this now looked like sleek armour, gold to match the embellishments of her dress and with carved filigree designs along the outside. In fact, the majority of it framed the outside of her legs rather than the entire thing, with leather straps that could be readjusted to keep it in place, and therefore was much less likely to dig into her thighs as she sat down. The framework was much thicker around her knees and her ankles, and wrapped around her hips with thin straps of leather as well, before the very same metal spine (this time in gold) followed the line of her back. 

 

“Well,” the tailor admitted reluctantly during the fitting, “that is very striking.”

 

“Yes,” Nunnally agreed slowly, softly, as she gazed at her own reflection in the multiple mirrors set within the room to allow for her fitting. She stepped to one side, and then the other, to follow the line of the dress down, and nodded, “Kanon wanted something that will draw people’s attentions. This is it.”

  
  


— 

  
  


It helped that C.C. readily agreed to let Nunnally hide her dress until the ball itself, herself wearing a beautiful off the shoulders black gown that highlighted her pale skin, and with black ribbons loosely tied around bits of free-flowing green hair. For a moment, Nunnally worried that people would recognize her as the woman who used to stand with Lelouch vi Britannia, but then scolded herself for that very thought. Who cared if people remembered? It had been five years, and she had spent all that time wanting to rub the fact that she was Lelouch’s sister in the faces of everyone in the world. 

 

Huddled within her floor length white cloak, Nunnally breathed a long breath to prepared herself as both C.C. and Zero went ahead of her by just a few steps. 

 

Luckily, the charity ball wasn’t an event that drew large amounts of reporters or camera crew, although there were a few photographers scattered around that would record the successful names that attended. Already, having stepped out of the car herself (and just last year she required Zero’s assistance to get to her wheelchair), and walking behind C.C. and Zero, there were waves of hushed whispers as attendants turned and recognized her figure along with that of Zero’s. 

 

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, unused to the braids around her head being so artfully loose, the only thing keeping her hair in place at all being the thin gold crown that was woven into strands of her hair. There were heavy amethyst earrings weighing down her head, and the high collar of her dress, lined in gold, was peeking through the trim of her white cloak. 

 

With the front of her cloak clasped together, and the back long enough to drag behind her, Nunnally followed behind Zero and C.C., smiling gently as people stumbled over themselves to greet her.

 

She knew that she was fashionably late for the event, half because that was expected of her, and half because she couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. Schneizel and Kanon were already there and likely making small talk with the leaders of the world. Cornelia had opted out of the ball, something that she tended to do even before Euphie’s death, but now afterward she was more a recluse than anything else. It was a surprise whenever she did decide to attend social events. Due the majority of the invitations being received so late, those in attendance were mostly officials of Europia United, with a few members of the UFN and Britannians scattered about. 

 

She wondered if that made it better or worse for her now. 

 

But it was too late to take back her decision, and no matter how nervous she was thinking about it, she didn’t want to take it back anyway. 

 

“Empress Nunnally,” one of the Greeters at the door curtsied to her, awkwardly holding on to an old fashioned clipboard at the same time to check the names of all the quests. She had a slight accent, her tone slightly nasally but young. “Lord Zero. And your… plus one?”

 

“Yes.” Nunnally told her with a smile, only gesturing briefly at C.C. “She’s my guest.”

 

There was no need to give a name, despite the way the Greeter looked like she wanted to ask for one to write down anyway. Instead, she nodded, checking off marks on her clipboard, and walked them into the grand building. 

 

They were led down a short hallway as the Greeter mentioned, “You’ll have your own table— number 17, which is closest to the gardens.”

 

The hallway cleared out to reveal a room that could belong to any in the Imperial Palace of Pendragon— large, brightly-lit with gold filigree in patterns across the walls and ceilings, and painted with beautiful Renaissance artworks. There were multiple chandeliers lighting up the room, the style old but with electric bulbs rather than candles. 

 

Everything there seemed to glitter, and the people there looked more like they belonged in a fairy tale rather than in the real world, with whirls of silk and satins swirling on the dancefloor, and men in suits just as extravagant as the women in dramatic cuts and thick brocades. 

 

There was an actual orchestra playing for the dancers, and Nunnally felt her smile strain as she watched the Greeter announce their presence. 

 

It was a testament to the amount of pomp and pretencity that people in the room barely made a blip when their presence was announced, besides some bows and curtsies as they walked past. 

 

They were guided to their seats, and Nunnally sat gratefully, dodging various attempts at conversation made by several nobles that she recognized through Kanon’s coaching of the influential families in the world. Some were curious about how she was walking (despite it having been covered in the news for the past several months already), and others insisted on insipid small talk that was sure to lead up to laws and favors that they wanted to ask about. 

 

It was the thing about social events that she found exhausting: that most tend to view it as a further extension of work, because ‘making connections’ was meant to come in handy later on, and ‘small talk’ was nothing more than forms of information gathering unless she stuck with nonsensical topics. 

 

The majority of those who came to speak with her either had ulterior motives, or, as it would seem lately, were those attempting to court her— whether for themselves, or for a relative. 

 

“You don’t seem interested in being here,” C.C. commented as they settled in their seats, Zero looking just as stiff and at-attention as always. He looked like he would much rather be standing, alert and ready in case of anything, than to attend as one of the guests. 

 

“I am here for the charity,” Nunnally said, a bit stiffly, as she waved off another young man who looked to be on a path to talk to her. The sooner she could get some food at the table, the better. At least those with better manners knew better than to bother a lady while she was eating. 

 

Now that they were sheltered from the cool night air, it was starting to get a little too warm in her cloak, but she didn’t want to discard it just yet. 

 

“Nunnally,” A voice to her side called out, and Nunnally looked up to see Schneizel heading toward her with a smile on his face and Kanon at his side. “You look beautiful, as always.”

 

“Brother Schneizel,” Nunnally greeted, and watched as he and Kanon settled into their seats as well. “Table seventeen, also?”

 

“Yes.” He confirmed. “It seems that we’re all here together. They’re seating the guests of each country either together or close together. An oversight, I presume, if they haven’t taken into account the number of guests who very clearly do not want to be seated together.” He nodded toward the dance floor, and Nunnally followed his gaze to several groups who were chattering and also very blatantly ignoring other groups. 

 

He pulled slightly at the cuff of one gold and white sleeve, his own coat resplendent under the glittering lights. “...It’s unusual to see you in white, little sister.”

 

White had always been her brother’s color when they were very young, mostly because Empress Marianne took great joy in dressing up her children— and while Lelouch’s wardrobe consisted mostly of white, Nunnally’s had been a very feminine pink. 

 

After they had been exiled… well, Nunnally didn’t know anymore. Colors hadn’t been as important, and she knew that their clothes had been replaced with black for mourning for a while. After… well, she never asked. 

 

And by the time she managed to force her eyes open again, her brother was once again dressed in white, and she had been dressed in pink. She hadn’t seen him in other colors outside of photos since then. Just as Schneizel claimed white as his own color, Nunnally’s perceptions of Lelouch had always been painted in white. 

 

White and red, and she was overly aware of her smile as she told Schneizel, “I’m trying something new.”

 

“Ahh. It is a beautiful color on you, Nunnally. The color of purity, is it not?”

 

As if he wasn’t aware of all its implications, considering Schneizel had very carefully cultivated his own image as the White Prince of Britannia from a young age. 

 

White, she learned in Japan, was also the color of funerals. 

 

“You haven’t even seen my dress yet,” she teased, well-aware of how he was blatantly ignoring both the presence of C.C. and Zero. One because he must not have recognized her, and the second purposefully, as Zero had the power to give him any order now, and Schneizel would have to follow it.

 

Five years, and that Geass was still strong. 

 

“You could be dressed in— what do the commoners call it? A paper bag, is it? And you would still be the most beautiful woman in the world.” It was overly grandiose, but also something that Lelouch might have told her in complete seriousness. 

 

“You have to say that,” she told him, although with less humor now, “you’re my brother.”

 

“That does not make it any less true.” He waved off the words like they were of no consequence to him, and Nunnally wondered for a moment if Lelouch would have used the same grand gesture when he complimented her. He had always been prone to over dramatic gestures, but it was something that seemed to run in the Britannian royal family. “Instead, will you not introduce me to your guest?”

 

His blue eyes were sharp as they finally landed on C.C., who only stared back blandly. Now that she wasn’t distracted by his platitudes, she could see that Schneizel was seated very carefully, his relaxing demeanor only given away by the white of Kanon’s knuckles. 

 

Ahh. So they  _ did _ know who she was, after all. 

 

“A friend from school.” Nunnally said instead. “She used to visit me and keep me company.”

 

Not untrue. C.C. had often stayed over, and in the times when she and Lelouch argued (which was actually quite often), then Nunnally would usually find C.C. lounging about their family room, the smell of pizza a too accurate indicator of where she was. 

 

“Oh?” His smile was cutting, and Schneizel made no move to greet C.C. in the way a prince was required to greet a lady. “We’ve never been properly introduced.”

 

“And you still won’t be.” C.C. told him, turning away as Kanon’s jaw tightened at the insult to his prince.

 

“Ahh.” Nunnally gave a nervous laugh, trying to draw Schneizel’s attention back to her. “She’s not— overly fond of people she doesn’t personally know. And she’s here more as a favor to me than anything else…”

 

“Surely not.” Schneizel insisted. “The Empress of Britannia brings a random lady to an event such as this… this should be a favor to her.”

 

“Brother Schneizel,” she chided, but then softened her tone as soon as he was actually directing his attention at her instead rather than at C.C. “...No one’s ever wanted to come with me before.”

 

That seemed to take him back enough for him to drop the subject, for now. “That can’t be true, Nunnally. You have no shortage of suitors and admirers, even here at this ball.”

 

“And would you have taken someone you didn’t know as your guest?” She asked, and waited for the turn of his lips as confirmation. “...I didn’t want to do something like that, either. I’d be obligated to dance with a stranger all night, and if that were the case, I would much rather donate to my own auctions myself. It’s the easier option if not for social obligations.”

 

“Social obligations are what run events like these, little sister,” Schneizel chided, but seemed to accept her words easily. “Who will you dance with, then, if not with one of the strangers here? You don’t have the excuse you used to— all of them have seen you move on your own legs coming in. That was quite the entrance, by the way.”

 

She hadn’t meant it to be. But looking at the table now, with Zero sitting at military attention, and C.C. looking like she was about to slouch over the table with Kanon glaring in her direction, and Schneizel… 

 

“Family?” She suggested, and smiled. “I’m afraid I’d need someone with plenty of patience to endure my footwork. Would you be willing to volunteer, brother Schneizel?”

 

He laughed, and then stood from his seat once more, extending a hand out to her from underneath the intricate white satin coat and the half cape that adorned his shoulders in a show of subtle elegance. “It should be me asking for a dance from my lovely little sister, and not the other way around. Once again, Nunnally, you seem to have outdone me.”

 

Now C.C. was staring at her response, and Nunnally smiled. She stood, and then slipped her hand underneath the heavy clasp under her cloak, letting the fabric fall onto her own chair. 

 

Schneizel’s eyes widened, and he inhaled sharply, a sound echoed by Zero at the other side of the table. Already in her peripheral vision, she could see others around the room slowly freeze in place. 

 

She extended a hand to accept Schneizel’s offer, and told him, “Then you mustn’t complain too much when I step on your feet all through the dance.”

  
  


— 

  
  


The fabric moved as elegantly as Emelen Gardel promised, the heavy white brocade embroidered with golden celtic knots at the bottom a change from the satins and silks that adorned the other women at the ball, with one high slit up to her hips that revealed peeks of golden metal encasing her legs as she moved. While the violet underbust corset was uncomfortable, it had been specially designed with thin muslin in the back to form easily and comfortable around the metal crawling up her spine. 

 

C.C. had contributed the belt that hung loosely at the top of the slit in the skirts, only to drape lower on the other side, decorated with three amethysts at the lowest point, surrounded by golden wings and weighed down by panels of thin white fabric lined in gold, also decorated with a flat amethyst at the end of each panel of fabric, surrounded in gold like an open eye. 

 

Perhaps it was a little too on the nose that the top of her dress had a stiff high collar lined with gold, drawing attention to the amethyst resting on her chest, once again round and lined with gold like an open eye wrapped in wings. Her shoulders were bare save for the metallic golden wings that folded delicately, connected by a thin gold chain and began the back of her own capelet, a glossimer white painted with gold wings to extend outward, and would flutter with any movement. One end of the capelet was connected to the gold ring on her middle finger, which stretched out like gloves to the same white brocade that was tight around her arms and also embroidered with a smaller and thinner version of the same pattern at the bottom of her dress. The sleeves stopped just above her elbow, held up by thin gold belts to her upper arm. 

 

All in all, Nunnally knew exactly who she looked like, and no one would be able to miss the tribute she was paying with that dress, not with her color choices or symbol choices. 

 

“Well?” She asked Schneizel as they turned in the dance once again, having given her half-brother plenty of time to his thoughts about her choice in wardrobe. “Would you still compliment me, even in this dress?”

 

Schneizel took a moment, and then sighed as they waltzed across the floor, a wide space given to the both of them as the orchestra played. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Nunnally.”

 

“Is it really so dangerous?” She asked as he twirled her in a slower circle than the dance would require, letting her step lightly within the golden braces and spin her skirts out wide. “Everyone should have known from the beginning who I was related to.”

 

“Your every choice has been different than his.” He told her, tone disapproving. “The people do not like being reminded of troubled times.”

 

“But they still celebrate it. While I am not allowed to.” She came back to his arms, satisfied by the fact that she didn’t have to stare quite so high up at him anymore. He would always be such a towering figure for her, and not just because of his height, but Nunnally had been given enough power the past few years that she wasn’t afraid anymore, not of him and not of this. “Why am I not allowed to celebrate as well?”

 

“You know why, little sister.”

 

“I will not celebrate my brother’s death,” Nunnally declared to him. “I want to celebrate his life.”

 

For a moment, Schneizel actually looked angered. It was an emotion hard-won for her, since he spent so long building up the facade of the benevolent prince, the one who brokered peace and could do no true wrong. It had taken her too long to realize that Schneizel lied to everyone, including her, just as Lelouch did. But while Lelouch grieved over his lies, Schneizel brushed them off as for the greater good. 

 

_ But whose greater good is it for? _ Nunnally found herself asking silently. 

 

The Demon Emperor lied to the whole world, except… he hadn’t, not really. Everything he claimed had come to pass. Everything he said was true. His lie had been that of a mask— of the fact that he wasn’t truly like he let them believe. He staked his claim on every atrocity across the globe, welcoming the anger and the blame with open arms while donning the facade of one who cared nothing for his people. The white he wore was a mockery of the purity it represented. 

 

Except they hadn’t known the white had been for mourning. A funeral attire. The Demon Emperor may have had a hand in a great number of deaths, but he certainly was not to blame for every wrong in the world. He wasn’t the cruel and heartless man he showed himself as. 

 

And Nunnally would wear the same white, now, as well, as her own process of mourning. She had spent the last five years gaining the trust of the people— creating the better world that her brother had dreamed of. The kinder, gentler world she had once wanted with naive innocence. Five years, and not a single misstep, not from her, not when Nunnally was seen from week to week constantly being as generous and kind as her brother would have wanted from her. 

 

If a mere dress was enough to change the minds of the people about her, then Nunnally was willing to give up her position in return. She had done her best, but one person should not carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. 

 

It shouldn’t have been her brother, and she now refused to let it be her if the people were too ready to turn on her. 

 

“That is not what the people want to see.” He gestured with a tilt of his head, to the people at the edges of the room, wide-eyed and gossiping already. They turned again, and Nunnally could see groups of ladies with faces half hidden behind fans, speaking under low tones and eyes glued on her. “You know better than the incite their ire needlessly.”

 

“Then they are free to turn away.” Nunnally claimed. Schneizel pulled her abruptly in one direction, and she lost her footing for a moment, the finer details of quick turns still lost to her. He still caught her, but didn’t offer the general reassurances he normally would, still too caught up with her little act of defiance. “I can not escape their— their  _ national holiday _ and celebrations, but they are free to turn away and ignore what I’m wearing right now. Just don’t report it. Don’t comment.”

 

“You know they won’t do that.”

 

“I  _ do _ know. But if everything that I’ve done in the last five years hold any weight at all, then at least one of the reporters here will strive to understand why I chose to do this.”

 

Wasn’t five years enough? Could she finally start to reveal— or even hint at, the fact that her brother was far more than the demon they painted him as?

 

(Could she, one day, actually reveal that this peace was all due to his plans?)

 

“You know that cannot be allowed to happen.” Schneizel said quietly, as if reading her thoughts. “Not if you want to preserve this peace. The world would riot. They would not accept the truth. And once they burn all traces of your brother’s sacrifice out of history, then they will be the ones in the right, and he will be forgotten by all. You will have no chance to redeem him. It is too soon, Nunnally.”

 

He stayed quiet a while longer, but then sighed softly under his breath. “You are still young enough that we can present this as an act of rebellion. You  _ are _ overdue for one, after all. Yes. We can still salvage this.”

 

The song slowed to an end, and Nunnally slowed her steps with it, eventually coming to a stop in front of Schneizel, looking up at him. “...You never acknowledged what happened before.”

 

“I am not a fool, Nunnally.” He told her gently. They were standing awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor now, unmoving even as another song started up at the heels of the old one. The other dancers gave them a wide berth. “His tactics have… stayed the same since childhood. It was what allowed me to beat him in our last match… and what allowed him to defeat me in our last battle.”

 

“The king always has to lead.” Nunnally said quietly. 

 

“Indeed. And in the end… the king is still just another piece in the set, only as valuable as any other piece. He’s always had such a strict set of ethics to follow. I always thought he would have made a brilliant leader, if he hadn’t been so easily influenced by his emotions.”

 

“He always admired you most.” She told him.

 

“And of all our siblings, I loved him most.” Schneizel told her matter-of-factly. “But Nunnally, as rulers, we can not allow ourselves to be influenced by emotions. When we do, there’s a high chance of it hurting far more people than we can comprehend.”

 

“But he changed the world.” She said, barely louder than a whisper to be heard over the sounds of the orchestra. “He made it  _ better _ .”

 

“And how many people were hurt in the process? How many still hurt now? Nunnally, if his actions were truly so successful, then why do you still suffer, five years later?” He touched her cheek gently and made a gesture in her direction, from the golden crown woven into her hair down to the amethyst jewels that hung near the floor of her gown, a facsimile of the red jewels that had once decorated her brother’s outfit. 

 

“It’s not wrong for me to mourn him,” Nunnally snapped, arms drawing closer to herself protectively. She hadn’t felt so exposed when the others were opening gawking at her, but under Schneizel’s knowing gaze, it felt like her soul was on center stage here, in the middle of the dance floor at the ball where everyone could see. 

 

“No,” Schneizel told her carefully, and reached to lay his hands on her upper arms gently, barely touching the gold belts that encircled her skin. “But you may have to acknowledge, or at least consider, the fact that he may have been the one in the wrong.”

  
  


— 

  
  


“How was it?” C.C. asked later in the evening, after having enjoyed her round of dances with plenty of men who stared a little too openly at the low cut of her gown. Nunnally had retreated back to her table as Schneizel was asked by another to dance, and she stared a little blankly at the rest of the room as Zero stood behind her, a silent presence that she couldn’t shake. 

 

She knew that he would not comment on her outfit, not until later, at least, and that he would have plenty to say about it then. 

 

C.C. took her seat elegantly, using one hand to brush back her long green hair into a more manageable twist behind her. “You’re certainly the talk of the ball, now. Every man I danced with had something to say about you, and every woman I passed had a comment on the dress.”

 

“Brother Schneizel is playing it off to everyone here as a belated act of teenage rebellion,” Nunnally said numbly. She stared down at her hands, wrapped in white and gold and a disk of amethyst on the back of her hand to mirror the image on her chest. The skin of her fingers looked dark in comparison to the beautifully white fabric. “...Is my mourning too selfish?”

 

C.C. didn’t answer, and neither did Zero behind her. Perhaps the past week had been like a dream, to be able to to speak of Lelouch without consequences, and Nunnally had thrown herself too far into that fantasy now. She had immersed herself too heavily in C.C. and Zero’s words, in their openness, and was now facing the reality of it all— that outside of their small circle, the world wasn’t willing to accept that Lelouch vi Britannia might have been, horror of all horrors, an actual human being. 

 

“Is it selfish to feel? To want something for yourself?” C.C. asked, tone as disinterested as ever. She leaned back into her chair and stretched her arms over her head for a second before settling down, unheeding of the scandalized gasps near them at her unladylike behavior. “Have you given yourself entirely over to the whims of those around you, then?”

 

Nunnally thought of her selfish trip to Australia, of the allocations of her own funds, of the dress she was wearing. “No,” she breathed out. “I haven’t.”

 

“Human beings are selfish creatures.” C.C. told her. “And Geass is a selfish power. There is no one in this world, in all my years, who has shown themselves to be completely selfless. Even the greatest saints have wanted things for themselves. You’ll find that the most beautiful and terrible of mankind’s creations were built atop selfishness.”

 

“But what if I hurt people?” Nunnally whispered, still staring at her hands. She could feel the eyes still on her, on the dress that she dared to wear. “Being Empress means that everything I do is bound to affect others. If I’m selfish, then…”

 

“ _ I am above the weakness of seeking to establish a sequence of cause and effect, between the disaster and the atrocity. _ ” Zero stated, just softly enough to not be overheard by any seeking to listen in on their conversation. 

 

Nunnally turned and looked up at him in question. 

 

“Edgar Allen Poe?” C.C. asked, cheek resting in the palm of her hand as she smiled. “Astute.”

 

“A person can only bear so much burden before they break,” he said to Nunnally, a hand on the back of her chair. “While I too disapprove of this choice, it remains, still, nothing but a dress.” He paused. “And you are allowed to wear what you will, regardless of what others may say.”

 

“Did Prince Schneizel say something, then?” C.C. drawled. “Because you don’t need to listen to him when it comes to fashion sense. The man has barely changed clothes in the past decade.”

 

That startled Nunnally to laugh. “...He did. I think it was something I didn’t want to hear.”

 

“Then you probably shouldn’t be listening to the rest of this drab party.” C.C. informed her. “You showed up, you danced, you shocked the crowd… I’d say you’re done now.”

 

“It’s a charity ball.” Nunnally said. “I’m supposed to stay and place bids on…”

 

“Useless junk.” C.C. told her. She turned to Zero. “And how much did it cost each person at this party to walk in the door, then, Zero?”

 

He shuffled slightly, uncomfortably. “I’m… uncertain.”

 

“Tsk. The previous Zero would have been able to say, down to decimal place. Well, I can guess it’d take most, if not all, of the fingers on one hand just to count to amount of  _ digits _ in that price tag. And I heard you have several items here to be bidded away as well.”

 

“...They’ll probably be worth less after this.” Nunnally murmured. Louder, she said, “I can’t just leave. We barely just got here.”

 

“Oh, dear,” C.C. said, raising the back of a hand to her forehead as she wilted dramatically, even if her voice was still just shades off monotone. “Would you look at that? I  _ do _ believe I’m feeling quite ill. It must have been the lack of pizza being served here. What an atrocity. And they dare to call this an  _ event _ .”

 

Nunnally smiled weakly. “I don’t think that would work.”

 

“For the record, I don’t disapprove of the dress. Like it, personally no, but that style has never been to my taste. Is it extravagant and fit for an empress, though? Yes, I would say it is. You should have added more eyes to it. Have a hood. Throw in two belts next time.”

 

Nunnally laughed softly. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

 

“Am I?” C.C. questioned, looking curious. She didn’t quite smile, but her bright eyes seemed to soften for just a moment. “...Ahh. Maybe I really am ill, after all.”

 

Nunnally looked up. “And what do you think, Zero? Do the reporters here have enough to write about already? Am I going to be the front page news about how the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree?”

 

“I wouldn’t know, Your Majesty,” He said brusquely. “But I would take C.C.’s… illness into account. The words have not been very friendly, and perhaps it’s best to give Schneizel time to turn the situation around. He should have it well in hand by tomorrow.”

 

Nunnally sighed. Two to one, then. “...At least we can go shopping tomorrow. Undercover.”

 

“If that is your wish,” he agreed in Zero’s neutral tone.

 

She pulled at the cloak she still had spread over her chair a tad mournfully. She had intended to come and shock people, and hopefully in their shock, they would start to rethink her connection to the Demon Emperor. (If she could be good and forgiving and kind, then maybe just through her association with her brother, it might open up the possibility in the minds of others that he could be as well.)

 

She hadn’t expected to be scolded by Schneizel first thing, or for the dark looks that Kanon would direct anywhere but at her in the brief moments when they spoke at the ball. 

 

“Alright,” she finally acquiesced. Maybe too quickly. Perhaps she didn’t really want to be here anymore, either. Anything else she could do would just hinder Schneizel’s efforts to mitigate the damage she unknowingly caused. “Zero, would you mind telling Brother Schneizel that I’m going to retire early?”

 

He ducked his head in a bow, a hand over his heart. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

 

As he left, Nunnally turned to C.C. with a hesitant smile. “...I’m sorry your designs weren’t better liked.”

 

“I told you,” C.C. responded, tilting her head curiously and waving off the comment. She stood from her seat, already composed and ready to leave. “I like your dress, despite it not being to my taste. That’s good enough for me.”

 

Nunnally, for her part, stood much slower. The newer version of her leg bracers may have been thinner and more intricate looking, but it was making for dancing and grace, and somehow sacrificed a bit of the practicality from the old model, taking just a second more for her to sit down and get up. “Yes, but I had still hoped—”

 

“Your Majesty?” 

 

Nunnally turned slightly to see a young girl, perhaps only fifteen years of age, fidget nervously for a bit before pulling her pale blue dress into a deep curtsy. Her accent was a French one, and her young face framed with short blond curls in perfect ringlets for the ball.

 

“Yes?” Nunnally answered, and struggled for just a moment to bring out the same smile she used when greeting others, softening it just a bit for the young girl in front of her. They might not be all that different in age, but fifteen felt like an age ago to her. She had been a student back then. A Viceroy. A princess. A prisoner. And then an Empress.

 

(When she thought about it, fifteen wasn’t her favorite age at all.)

 

The girl curtsied nervously in front of her, a bit clumsy and the movements unsteady, but with a youthful smoothness that spoke of the movement being trained into her. Not surprising, considering the party she was attending. 

 

“May I have this dance, Your Majesty?” She asked. 

 

Nunnally turned to C.C., unable to hide the slight shock in her expression. With how the rest of the attendees were staying away from her, it was awfully bold for the teen to have approached her in the first place. 

 

C.C. just shrugged at her, although there was something sharper in the glint of her eyes. 

 

Nunnally floundered for another moment before she smiled, and then reached out a hand to accept the offer, “Of course you may.”

 

It really should have been awkward, with Nunnally tending to refuse dances the majority of the time at first on the basis of her wheelchair, and eventually because she had no urge to spend time with those attempting to sweet talk her into some kind of political negotiation, but Nunnally had always prepared herself for dancing with children. It was easier, she thought, when there were bright eyes and missteps, asking after her dress or her chair with a far more innocent moue, Enough that even if their words could be construed as insulting, their intentions were entirely innocent. 

 

She never had to dance with a teenager before, though, at least one more than a few years younger than her, mostly because none before this had ever raised the courage to ask her, and there were very few teenagers at these parties to begin with. If nothing else, she wanted to commend the girl for doing so, for being the first person brave enough to do so. 

 

“Well,” Nunnally told her with a smile as they moved back to the dancefloor, the girl in front of her awkward and uncertain. The song that started up was something a bit more fast-paced, with steps that Nunnally knew in theory but wasn’t certain she would be able to execute in practice with such little experience. There was nothing to it but to try, though. “I have you say, you’ve a very bold person. Not many people would ask for a dance, and especially not at your age.”

 

The girl flushed, holding her skirts out in the common curtsy before a dance, before reaching to hold onto her hands tentatively in the fashion that this dance would require. Nunnally smiled at her, watching the girl that was a few inches shorter than her still looked down to monitor her careful footwork as the song started. 

 

Nunnally allowed herself to follow along, a little slower thanks to the brace that wasn’t used to the finer movements required when dancing, with the twists and turns that legs had to do and support her at the same time. She was going to let the dance pass in silence, assuming that the girl had probably asked mostly because of nerves or because someone else asked her to do so, but— 

 

“I… like your dress.” The girl said shyly, “The colors.”

 

Nunnally smiled, awkward but willing to indulge the teen. “Thank you. Yours is very beautiful as well. Is it your favorite color?”

 

The girl’s eyes darted down to look at the jewels on Nunnally’s dress, and she shook her head. “I like purple. It’s… can I ask you something, Your Majesty?”

 

Ahh. There it was. Nunnally’s smile gentled anyway, even as they matched their steps to the beat of the music with one whirl, two… the long skirts of her dress flared up despite the heaviness of the fabric, revealing more of the golden braces underneath, even atop the soft satin of her shoes— flats, because it was already an innovation to stand and dance, and she didn’t want to risk the extra instability of heels at the moment. It wasn’t important, anyway.

 

“You may,” Nunnally acquiesced, keeping her smile light and watching the girl for her reactions. 

 

The girl bit her lip, keeping her eyes down at their steps. Forward, back, side-step… Nunnally spun her around, and by the time the turn was completed, the girl was looking up at her earnestly. 

 

“Father wants to know why you chose that dress. He says nobody likes it, but I do. It’s nice. The colors, that is.”

 

Nunnally’s smile strained slightly. Of course it was still about the dress. Although that was probably better than attempting to talk politics with a girl who shouldn’t be old enough to worry about the state of the world. “I’m glad you approve. I happen to like purple as well. It reminds me of— good memories.”

 

“Me, too,” the girl seemed to warm up, between careful steps and the bounce of her blond curls, “it was my mother’s favorite color.  _ Pourpre _ . She liked bellflowers.”

 

The obvious past tense made Nunnally soften just a bit. “...I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

That made the girl look up for a moment, embarrassed, even as she shrugged her shoulders and then dropped her gaze down to her steps again. “...Thank you. It was years ago. Father doesn’t like the dress because, I think, it reminded him of a bad time.” Her words seem to twist up in each other, but the girl pressed on, “but I didn’t hate the Emperor. The design is a lot like his, yes?”

 

Her account got especially thick around the end, and Nunnally felt her stomach twist. She hesitated a moment, missing the beat of the song, although the girl did not. 

 

“Father hated him a lot, I think,” she continued, concentrating more on her steps and frowning a bit when she realized she was half a beat faster than Nunnally, pausing a moment so that they would match again. “Because of— FREIJA? He said… Emperor Lelouch threatened the world with it. I remember. I was scared, because people said anyone who… uh. Disobeyed. He would drop the bomb.”

 

It was a conversation she wanted to have, wanted to clarify, and certainly it would be best to start with a single person, with a single girl who didn’t spend her energy hating her brother, but there was something that made Nunnally hesitate. 

 

“But he never did. Not even as a threat. He had months, and a lot of people were bad, and it was scary… but I don’t hate him because he could have, but he never did. He took the bomb away, and then it was destroyed.”

 

The girl stopped her steps too, following in Nunnally’s cue, and she finally looked up, blue eyes dull. 

 

“I wanted to ask,” she said, “because my mother loved  _ pourpre _ , and you’re wearing that color and the design of the man who stopped the bombs even though everyone hates him. She died in Pendragon. Why did you drop the FREIJA?”

 

No. Something was very, very wrong.

 

“I like that dress a lot.” The girl said. “I like the colors. I do not like you wearing it.”

 

There was a glint of something in the girl’s hand, and Nunnally darted her eyes up to where she could see the flash of green hair, catching bright amber eyes wide with alarm as the woman raced from where the seats were at the edge of the dancing hall, pushing past couples whirling by with beautiful outfits and gowns, swirling skirts and sparkling jewels. 

 

She looked back within the second to see the young girl’s face, brows drawn together in distress and lips pursed in an effort to push down an emotion yet unidentified. The girl was tense, shoulders shaking and expression dark. 

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, as Nunnally opened her mouth to yell because they were too close, close enough for dancing, and her leg braces were not made to move very quickly, and all around them couples were dancing to the fast beat of the music, entirely oblivious. 

 

She could see C.C. shouting in the background. 

 

A knife flashed before Nunnally could do more than take a step away.

 

“Sorry,” the girl murmured, and then charged at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it! I went back and finished this chapter because I might... have... skipped a portion of this during NaNo because I wanted to write the next chapter, LOL. Adjusted a few sentences in the last chapter because whoops, timeline shenanigans. Also doodled a sketch of [Nunnally's outfit](https://i.imgur.com/NcwQyhI.png) in those moments where I would rather do anything but write, whoops. Art is not me, but welp. Hope everyone's had a good holiday season so far! I've survived this week through MMDs, and I've got to say, Code Geass has some amazing stuff out there.


	5. Black Prince, White Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Not much happens this chapter, but I guess it is the, ahh, start of the story! So I hope everyone enjoys this new beginning, even if it's just a long moment of respite. I meant to get the next chapter of _World Enough_ out before this, but at least I can say that's almost done (I lost track of time entirely) and until then, here is more Feels Time With Nunnally (tm). Warning in this chapter for ableism.

“Do you still hate him?”

 

There was something otherworldly about the dead of night, when the lights were dimmed, when Nunnally was prepared for bed, her hair in loose waves down her back and the normal sounds of bustle through the palace was all but silenced.

 

It was a liminal time, a time that brought about a courage she didn’t normally feel, when the moon was at its zenith and bright in the sky, illuminating the gardens outside in such a manner that, combined with the rising fog, made for a surreal scene painted straight from a fairy tale.

 

Or perhaps she was already living in such a fairy tale— she was, after all, royalty. And weren’t most of those stories about girls, _princesses_ , in situations beyond their control?

 

Cursed, or kidnapped, or trapped in some manner that required a hero to come rescue them.

 

But Nunnally was not a princess anymore— she was Empress of a dominion that spanned a third of the entire world. Granted, there were less and less people who insisted on formality with her, less who seemed to remember the glory of the empire, as Nunnally slowly and surely did her best to return the territories back to the rightful reigns of the people who lived there.

 

The Holy Britannian Empire was a remnant of an old age, and while it still existed for the most part, she was doing her best to change it from within for a newer, brighter future.

 

Soon, she hoped, she would not be addressed as ‘Empress’ or ‘Your Majesty’ at all, but rather as nothing more than Lady Nunnally— one of the last of a bygone era of royalty, of a time when being born in a position of power meant that one could order the death of thousands— millions. It was difficult while people still clung to the old ways, but in this, Nunnally was quite patient.

 

Change will come, she knew, if only because people now are too scared of the old ways.

 

It was in that liminal time of night, where nothing looked quite the same as it did during the day, during the light, full of mystery and wonder and the budding optimism of change in her mind, that Nunnally decided to seek Zero out.

 

It was usually the other way around, seeing as she often thought that she saw him _too_ much, if anything. In the first year when she had been appointed Empress, Nunnally worked with Zero on just about every law and edict she drafted. He was there to watch after her, to prevent any too grieved by the fact she was related to the Demon Emperor from harming her.

 

And in the months as she settled into her new position, she had noticed how many of the Black Knights Zero once commanded to great victories now actively stayed away from him. Many were not able to look at him without flinching, without grief and _guilt_ written all over their postures. Not that all of them knew who was under the mask now, or even all knew who had been under the mask while he commanded them, but Nunnally knew something of the emanating guilt: the Black Knights had not expected the reappearance of Zero. Not only that, but they must have left him for dead somehow.

 

But no one would speak of the reasons with her, and it was only recently that she learned the Black Knights, the unstoppable force that her brother had created to fight for justice and equality, had turned on her brother after they learned of his identity and power, selling their leader out to Prince Schneizel for the assurance that they would have their country returned to them.

 

Never mind that Lelouch had all but already guaranteed their freedom.

 

Now, with Zero’s return and the death of her brother, none of the Black Knights dared to look him straight on.

 

It was rare for Zero to return to his homeland, seeing as the Prime Minister preferred to speak with her and ignore Zero’s presence when possible, and even his cousin did not acknowledge his existence. It was difficult when authorities of the Chinese Federation would tense the moment Zero stepped into the room, and plenty of Zero’s former allies much preferred not to deal with him at all.

 

Sometimes, Nunnally would use this to her advantage— many of the former Black Knight would much rather give her small concessions than argue details when Zero was in the room with her.

 

And so once again, Nunnally thought to use Zero’s existence to her advantage, intruding on his private quarters rather than have him summoned to hers. If this was unusual to any of the maids whom she had encountered on the way, none of them so much as lingered in curiosity.

 

So it was in the dead of night, in the dim lighting of the palace and in her nightgown, that Nunnally sought out the man under the mask. In the past five years, she had only been to his quarters a handful of times, a little because it was so far out of the way (while he requested to be placed near the Empress in case he was needed, his requests also covered rooms that gave him absolute privacy), and a little because Zero discouraged it.

 

She stood, as there were only the minimal of essentials and furniture in his quarters, and therefore no more extra seating than at his desk and his bed. Instead, Nunnally took to leaning against the wall by the door, hands folded behind her back as she watched him scan over reports, the brightest light in the room the glow on the monitor as it related constant information.

 

He took a long moment to respond, but at least said reluctantly, “...No. I don’t.”

 

His mask was off, secure in the knowledge of where he was and that no one could intrude without plenty of warning.

 

He looked like he had more to say about that, and Nunnally waited.

 

“I’m not sure I can explain what I feel.” He admitted quietly. Nunnally had given him a day to ruminate over what he had learned from C.C., knew how she herself needed that time to digest the information. She watched as he organized files, fingers deft from the practice.

 

Despite most paperwork being electronic, the palace ran on a policy of always having a hard copy along with, to ensure that nothing could be tampered with digitally.

 

“I don’t hate him. I don’t think I ever— could. As much as I wanted to. Or maybe I did hate him, and I still do. I hate what he did. I hate all his lies. How he— never stopped lying, not even after he died. I can never forgive that, although I don’t… hate him.”

 

Nunnally stayed quiet, leaning on her hands against the wall.

 

It was easier to hear Suzaku say that, she thought, that admit those very same thoughts herself.

 

“I think I knew from the very beginning. That he was Zero. He didn’t try very hard to hide it at back then— said the same things to me as he would, either persona. I knew, but I didn’t want to. I could have stopped him so much sooner if I had just—”

 

Suzaku cut himself off abruptly, turning his head sharply as if to dismiss the thoughts.

 

Nunnally thought of those bright days from before, when her biggest concern had been on school, on friends, with only half a mind to fear being discovered by the royal family and being separated from her brother. It had been so easy back then— she could lament over bullies in class, over stained clothing and teachers who spoke to her like she needed the time to process their words instead of just being blind and crippled.

 

To know that Suzaku had known who Zero was… to think that Euphemia recognized Lelouch immediately underneath the mask despite the years apart… Nunnally wondered why it was that she never suspected her brother of being the brilliant and frightening Zero?

 

Perhaps it was the thought that what Zero did was… dangerous. Zero constantly involved himself in battles with the risk of death, but Nunnally had always known that her brother would come home to her.

 

If that was the case, then Zero couldn’t possibly be Lelouch, could he? Even if her brother came home too late at night smelling of gunpowder and oil, of mud and blood, he must have just been caught up somewhere that held him up for a few hours. Her brother would never involve himself in something that might result in leaving her alone. Nunnally had expressed, over and over, that her greatest wish had been to stay with him. Her greatest gift was to be by his side.

 

She wondered how her childhood would have gone if they hadn’t been abandoned by the rest of the world, unable to truly trust anyone but each other. Would she have been this attached if she had not been blind and crippled, completely reliant on her brother for survival?

 

But even before their mother’s death, before they had been abandoned, Nunnally had always known that she would never let her brother go. Perhaps it was nothing but the brilliance of memory coloring her vision, but she was sure that even back then, no matter the presence of her mother or the knights or all her other doting half-siblings, she had always been most possessive of her brother.

 

“I never suspected.” She admitted quietly in the dark of the room, hands pressed against the cold wall. “Not once. If you knew, then what does that make me?”

 

Suzaku shook his head at her self-reproach. “Your brother was an accomplished liar, Nunnally—”

 

“Was he?” She wondered aloud, fidgeting with her fingers behind her back. “I was the one who could always tell when someone was lying to me. I thought I knew everything about him. If I didn’t notice, was it because I didn’t care enough?”

 

“Of course you cared enough. His actions and choices are not your fault.”

 

Nunnally had wanted to turn the conversation around, to reassure Suzaku that it was the same with him, that if he believed that, then he shouldn’t blame himself for what he did and didn’t do in the past. They had no way of changing things; only the ability to guide the future. But instead, the words resounded in her head like a drumbeat, like the echo of a shout into the abyss.

 

“I do hate him.” She admitted, barely above a whisper, unheeding of whether or not Suzaku even heard it. When acknowledged, the hole in her heart felt huge. Like it could never be filled, no matter what she did. “Not because he was Zero. Not for changing the world. Not for— whatever atrocity he’s committed. I hate that he left me. That he thought he had to— lie to me.”

 

Would a younger version of Nunnally have been able to accept that her brother, the very same brother who brushed her hair in the mornings and would tell her stories on request, was the very same Zero who murdered their brother Clovis, and waged war against Britannian forces?

 

She didn’t know. Maybe not. Maybe she would have been horrified. Or maybe, if she studied the thought hard enough, she would have left her brother entirely.

 

But she thinks that the most likely outcome of the truth would have been that she would be better prepared for whatever battles he would have to face. That she would be there for him, to hold his hands to give him strength before his greatest crimes.

 

“I _hate_ him for leaving me,” she said again, stronger and more vehemently this time, as if she could spit the words out and not have it poison her anymore. Suzaku was still, across the room, and Nunnally found her vision clouded with tears once again. “But more than that… more than that, I wish I— I wish he were still here, now. I wish I got to tell him, during his worst moments. I wish I could take back my accusations, and my anger, and just tell him that I love him.”

 

The moment when she watched her brother fall, watch the blood stain his clothes, leaving a streak of red behind him, Nunnally had tried, _tried_ , to tell him. How much she loved him. To not leave her. To stay with her.

 

It was funny how quick a person could change their mind once death factored in.

 

She breathed out a shaky breath, unwilling to let the tears fall. She cried too often lately, and felt like her tears would soon lose all credibility if she continued to let them fall.

 

“I wish I had been there for him, from the beginning.” She said, still staring at her feet, clad in slippers and the cold metal of her bracers. “That I insisted he tell me everything. The truth. That I had been stronger, so he wouldn’t have felt— like he needed to protect me so much.”

 

Once she blinked the tears away, _willed_ them away, Nunnally looked up to see Suzaku staring at her with a sad, broken expression.

 

“What would you have done?” She asked. “If you could have changed things… saved Euphie. Saved Lelouch.”

 

Suzaku looked away from her, fumbling with his papers again. “...I don’t know. It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

 

“No,” she agreed slowly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

  


—

  


Nunnally inhaled sharply, ready to yell out in alarm at the sudden pain in her eye and the fear for having seen the gleaming knife in the younger girl’s hand. The world seemed to go dark in a second, and she jerked back, one hand out in an attempt to block, and the other gripped at—

 

She hit the back of her head on a hard surface, nearly bouncing off with the impact, inciting a yelp from the unexpected pain and disorientation, the world too dark around her but that panic overwhelmed by the sharp spike of pain against the back of her skull.

 

“Nunnally!”

 

She was already stumbling forward (or was she?), instinctively scrambling away from the direction of that pain, both hands coming up to protect the back of her skull and a shout for help on her tongue before she was falling, _falling_ —

 

And she hit the ground, hard, in a tangle of her own limbs and dress, panicked and disoriented, the dark still encapsulating and frightening, and now with stinging elbows and knees to accompany the sharp pain in the back of her head.

 

Were all the guests going to just stand around and watch? Not help? Nunnally felt a swell of shame at the mess she must look, sharp under the pain, at the embarrassment she must have been. From the very first moment of her arrival at the ball, to her dress, to her dance with Schneizel, to her sulking in her seat, and now this— she would be the laughingstock of the world by the next morning, if Zero could make his way to her in time and stop the would-be little girl assassin.

 

The world was dark but bright at the same time, as if hooded, and the feeling was so very familiar that the panic at the loss of her vision seemed secondary to the disorientation she felt. She couldn’t seem to move her legs again, must have damaged her bracers in the fall, and where was the girl now?

 

A hand on her elbow, and she jerked back violently, crying out in alarm and surprise.

 

“—ay, it’s okay, I promise, shh, it’s just me, you’re safe,” the gentle stream of reassurances were finally filtering back to her, and Nunnally felt dizzy with it, hands on the cold ground as she tried to push herself back up to no avail. There was a hesitant touch against her hair, and despite everything, she leaned into it. “Everything’s okay, I promise.” Another touch on her elbow, and this time, shakingly, she didn’t jerk away.

 

She lifted her hands almost instinctively for help, and thin arms slipped around her back, underneath her knees, and lifted her, disorienting her further for a second as she lost all contact with the ground, before she was settled ever so carefully onto the soft cushions of a seat.

 

It was— what—?

 

There was gentle murmuring around her, and Nunnally whipped her head back and forth in a futile attempt the follow the words, her head still spinning about her. What was going on? Did Zero get the girl? Where was C.C.? She knew better than to ask the questions aloud, knowing she had already caused enough trouble for the night, but she wanted _answers_.

 

A soft, feminine voice was saying something quietly, tone worried. She couldn’t make out the words for a moment, the throbbing at the back of her head finally starting to dull down just a little bit.

 

“—could just stay here today, it’s okay, it’s not a problem—”

 

“I’ll hurry.”

 

“It’s okay, Sayoko. We’ll be fine.”

 

There was a silence then, something fond, before an agreement and a presence next to her, at her level, before a soft hand was on her own, and a feminine voice told her, “I’ll be right back, Mistress Nunnally. Everything is alright.”

 

She clung to the hand, _familiar_ , for a long moment, her scrambled mind slowly trying to pull itself together after the shock of the attempted assassination. And what happened to the party around her? Had someone cut the lights—?

 

Another presence, the one from before, and the second touch on her hand shocked her to stillness.

 

“Sayoko will be right back,” the gentle voice told her, hand warm on her own, softer even than the hand before, turning to grasp onto her fingers in a loose and comforting embrace. She grabbed on tightly in response, feeling the slight flinch of surprise but ignoring it. _She knew that warmth_ , knew the slender fingers that would braid her hair; would hold her hand whenever she was scared.

 

Was this a dream? Had she died?

 

“Lelouch?” She asked tremulously, unable to hide the shaking of her hands.

 

“Yes. I’m here.” He just turned his hand so she could grab on more comfortably, not moving away. “What happened, Nunnally?”

 

It had to be a dream. Had to be. A dream so real it felt like a memory, like she was once again back in her younger days, still confined to a wheelchair, still blinded by her psychosomatic trauma. She missed his voice _so much_ , missed his presence, missed just— just this, this simple reassuring feeling deep in her heart, full now, before the hole had been carved out with his death.

 

She cried, full tears and wailing as she grabbed tightly onto his hand, as she ignored his very blatant panic, just so relieved for this dream, for this moment, that she couldn’t express herself at all. Within moments, Nunnally had sunken into hiccuping sobs, not understanding how this could be and panicking for the brief second when his touch disappeared, before she felt him draw her into a proper hug, and she could cling onto him, to the familiar feeling of his school uniform on her hands, pressing her face against his collar as she cried, the calming scent of lavender and jasmine only making her cry harder.

 

How had she never— appreciated? Just the little things. The sound of waves at night, the chamomile tea he always had ready for her. The lavender and jasmine scent, so signature of him that she never realized he had deliberately surrounded her with comforts until it was gone. Until the first time someone lit a calming candle for the empress, she had broken down in tears at the scent.

 

“Shh,” she could hear him murmuring to her, tucking her head under his chin and unheeding of her tears staining his uniform. The very same black high school uniform of Ashford Academy that she had seen in photos, with its high collars and gold trim. She could only cling tighter to him, in an effort to keep him from disappearing. If she held on, didn’t let go, then maybe she could stay a little longer.

 

With the recent assassination attempt all but forgotten in the shock of the familiar presence of the one person she missed so desperately through the years, Nunnally let herself be quelled into an exhausted calm by her brother’s soothing voice and the tight hold he had on her, one hand smoothing up and down her down back in a manner much like their mother had done for them as children.

 

Eventually, as her crying tapered off and she lay the side of her face against the wet fabric of his uniform, Nunnally could hear the gentle hum as he petted her hair, a song from years past rumbling against his throat. In her drowsy and exhausted state of mind, Nunnally could feel slight tremors running through her brother’s frame, startling her just awake enough to realize he must have been kneeling before her wheelchair the entire time, twisting himself to an awkward angle in order to hold and comfort her.

 

It made her jolt, to know and feel that. How long had she—

 

No matter how hard she tried, there were details she must have forgotten about her brother. Little things that she despaired of losing forever. How had she not remembered in years past that she and Sayoko used to joke about how Lelouch needed to exercise more, about how concerned she had been regarding the student council’s jokes about her brother’s physical weakness, laughing whenever they told her of their attempts to get Lelouch to run or actually exert himself in any way.

 

She brought it up with him before, in concern, but her brother had only sighed in a dramatic huff, and pressed a kiss against her forehead before informing her that the others were exaggerating and poking fun at him, and that he would always be strong enough to carry her as far as she needed from him, even if it was the rest of their lives.

 

Without others to compare him to outside of Sayoko, Alice, and on occasion Suzaku later on, she had taken him on his word. Sayoko, after all, was extraordinarily strong, and Alice played various sports, while Suzaku had been in the military for years already. Of course, by comparison, her brother would seem fragile.

 

He didn’t seem to notice her distress regarding the lapse in her memories, instead taking her movement as a sign that she was finally starting to feel better from whatever episode had come over her.

 

“Better now?” He asked, pulling back just slightly to brush the remnants of tears from her cheeks, and _oh_ , that really was how he sounded like— not like the recordings of the Demon Emperor, not like the grand speeches that Zero used to make, but the very same kind and caring brother she had always known. Her mind hadn’t been playing tricks on her for remembering differently than the records would suggest.

 

Now if only she could— force her eyes open—

 

The soft touch on her chair brushed back her bangs, and Nunnally could have cried again with frustration as her eyelids felt glued shut.

 

“What happened?” He asked, soft as before, and she hesitated.

 

“I—” What could she say? Was this a dream? Was it just a moment, a flash before her own death? Was this what people meant by flashing back to their life before? It certainly didn’t feel like it, if only because it wasn’t a flash and she could feel the warmth as if she were actually there. This didn’t feel like a moment, but she was scared that the moment she tried to believe that it would last for any longer, it would be ripped away from her.

 

Of course. Of _course_ this was what her mind would conjure up.

 

 _Am I dead?_ She wanted to ask, because she had hoped that if there was an afterlife, if there was anything at all, then she would have her sight and her legs. But no... that wasn't true. She had hoped, more than anything else, that she would finally meet her brother again.

 

“I had a dream.” She settled on, the answer feeling flat even as she said it. She swallowed hard and clenched her hands harder on his clothes, needing the assurance without her sight that he was there, even if a distant part of her mind, closer than she would have liked, knew that it wasn’t true. She couldn’t make sense of what was going on. Now that the extreme emotions were draining away from her, all it left behind was confusion and fear.

 

“Last night?” He asked, sounding confused.

 

She shook her head, and then stopped when she wondered if that would be the easiest answer to explain it. What was going on? She couldn’t— was she hallucinating? Maybe there had been a poison smeared on the blade, and she just didn’t recall being stabbed.

 

She could at least use that confusion to her advantage.

 

“There was a girl,” she tried to explain, unsure of how to answer his previous question. “I think… I was at a ball. She was really young. She walked up to me, and she had a knife—”

 

Her voice choked up there, not due to the assassination attempt she was recalling, but due to the situation hitting her all at once, all over again.

 

“Am I dead?” She finally dared to ask, voice a whisper.

 

“Oh, Nunnally, no. It’s just a dream. But I’ll speak to Milly, and we can cancel—”

 

“No!” She clung to his sleeve as he moved, panic overwriting her senses. “Don’t leave me!”

 

He must have been bewildered, even if he did stop and lay a hand over her own, reassuring her that he would stay. Nunnally could barely hear the reassurances over the thundering in her ears, like waves crashing over her mind and thrumming with the rapid pace of her heartbeat.

 

That was when the mild chime of the door sounded, informing the siblings that someone had entered the upper levels of the clubhouse at Ashford Academy where they had once made their home (and was that where she was now?), most likely Sayoko who did say that she would not be away for long…

 

“Oh,” her brother’s words were little more than a gentle exhale of breath. “She brought the doctor. Good. Shall we go see him, then? That’s quite the nasty bump on your head.”

 

She had almost forgotten about that, and with acknowledgement, the throbbing came back worse.

 

He moved away again, despite Nunnally’s clinging, but kept one hand within hers as he stood and stepped, never more than a step away, towards the back of her wheelchair, while Nunnally raised her arms to keep his hand grasped tightly within the clasp of her own as he stepped behind her.

 

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he told her soothingly, “it was just a dream.”

 

She brought his hand (warm!) to her cheek, and wished desperately that she could just open her eyes, just for a moment, to confirm where she was. Maybe this really was just a hallucination. She had never been able to open her eyes back then, so she wouldn’t be able to compare the sight to her memories. If she did manage to see, then it would all just be made up by her mind, pieced together from the pictures she had seen, and the trip she had once taken back to Ashford Academy just to see the layout of what had once been her home.

 

As they made their way to the sitting area (and where had they been before? She was usually so good with telling…), Nunnally found herself once again wondering at the dream. It felt so real. The slight bumps under her wheelchair, the scents that were so familiar to her, the warmth of her brother’s hand, and even the murmuring she could hear as Sayoko spoke softly to the doctor she had found so quickly.

 

“And you say that it came on suddenly?”

 

“Yes,” Sayoko confirmed, her tone as gentle as ever even if Nunnally could detect hints of concern. “We were just on our way down to breakfast.”

 

Breakfast. So it was morning. And if that was the case, and she was back (or her memories had taken her back) to the home during her school days, then… she remembered the long hallway she Sayoko would usually push her past. Her brother’s room had been at the furthest end of it, and so she never passed him in the mornings, especially since he had a tendency of sleeping in when allowed, but she usually greeted him in the mornings by the time she made her way down to the breakfast nook, warm with the morning sun with the window cracked open just the slightest to allow the breeze and the scent of the garden outside to enter.

 

In her mind’s eye, she could see where that was, could see the little corner from the time she visited Ashford.

 

An unfamiliar presence entered her space, and Nunnally squirmed. She could feel her brother tense at her discomfort.

 

“And then?” The unfamiliar voice asked, although the question was not directed at her.

 

“She fell,” her brother stated, although he didn’t sound very happy. She could almost imagine the glare that he would have directed at the doctor. “Bumped her head.”

 

“I see.” The doctor, male, older, hmmed in thought. “And did she—”

 

“‘She’ can hear you, and can likely answer questions better than I can,” her brother snapped, the hand within her grasp tensing up. “Miss Sayoko, does it have to be—”

 

“My apologies,” Sayoko was saying to soothe over her brother’s sudden anger. “He was the first person I could find at this early hour.”

 

Nunnally squeezed her brother’s hand, smiling weakly. “It’s okay—” she told him. It certainly wasn’t the first time someone talked around her as if she wasn’t even there, and it wasn’t even the first time that happened by the time this— dream— came around. She had been used to that all the way from childhood, just as she had grown used to her brother snapping at anyone who couldn’t seem to see she was still there, still a full person despite the blindness and the wheelchair.

 

Even after she became Empress, there had been some who had taken one look at her wheelchair and would lift their gaze to speak with Zero behind her instead, as if he would answer for her.

 

She was used to both the people who averted their eyes when they saw her wheelchair, and the people whose gazes would linger from the pity. One of the greatest freedoms that Asplund’s designs had brought her was the slight anonymity that came with the lack of stares— when people didn’t see the wheelchair, they sometimes didn’t think to look at who she might be. For years, the world had adjusted to the thought of a crippled Empress, and Nunnally could sigh in relief at the lack of attention when she walked down a street, royal guard or not.

 

“Well!” The doctor huffed, sounding offended. “If it’s not my help you want…”

 

Sayoko’s flood of demure reassurances washed over Nunnally as her brother remained suspiciously silent, his hand still tense in her grasp.

 

But this was familiar as well. Just as her brother could not allow any insult to her past him, Nunnally had accustomed herself to letting such things slide right off her, if only to show him that she wasn’t hurt by those words.

 

(Even if she was.)

 

“I’m sorry, doctor,” she apologized instead with a vague smile, turned in the direction of the stranger. “We appreciate you coming here this early. Truly.”  


That seemed to placate the man well enough that he knelt in front of her, although he gave no warning before he started prodding at the back of her head where she bumped it, and Nunnally had to swallow back a yelp at the sudden pressure on the sore area.

 

Her brother, on the other hand, felt absolutely murderous as the man touched her without warning.

 

“Hmm.” The doctor said as he prodded. “There will be a bump there, that’s for sure. Unlikely to be serious damage. You didn’t break the skin, at least. Do you remember what happened before your sudden— episode? Sudden tensing of muscles? Did you feel cold all of sudden? Hot? Dizzy?”

 

“I— don’t remember.” Nunnally admitted, nearly gritting her teeth as he continued to examine her, cold fingers now tilting her chin this way and that. Her brother’s fingers were tense within her own. What kind of dream was this? She didn’t remember a doctor like this. “I think I fell asleep, and had a dream.”

 

“That might be prevented if you opened your eyes,” the doctor told her dismissively, and now she could feel her brother radiating anger. “Even if you might want to deprive yourself of vision, physiologically the human body responds to closed eyes with rest, and that could account for your sudden episode of narcolepsy.”

 

“Is she fine, then?” Her brother asked, tone brimming with contained anger at those words. Nunnally could feel footsteps next to them, and knew that Sayoko had stepped forward as well, likely also insulted now by this doctor’s words. Her movements were uncharacteristically brusque, indicating the same anger that her brother was showing.

 

“As fine as you can call this,” the doctor said, seemingly unaware of the anger surrounding him. “Of course, I’d have to check for signs of concussion with blunt head trauma, but it’s unlikely that she’s strong enough to hurt herself that badly—”

 

Those cold fingers rested on the cheek next to her eyes, and this time Nunnally did flinch back, something in the back of her mind screaming against letting him pry up her eyelids.

 

If he opened her eyes, she thought, then this dream would end, and she might be lying on the cold floors of a French ballroom, bleeding out while others screamed around her.

 

Luckily, he stopped, and through the movements, she could feel Sayoko’s iron grip on the doctor’s wrist, while her brother jerked her wheelchair back a few inches to separate them.

 

“ _No,_ ” he ordered, the word tight with anger. “We asked you to check her injuries, not to treat her like—” he could barely speak over the anger in his tone, and Nunnally was glad that she was still holding on to him, feeling the tremors in his hand, knowing everything he was feeling at this time.

 

“If you want me to check her for injuries, then I would need to _check her for injuries_ ,” the doctor’s voice was loud and insulted, slightly pained form what Nunnally would guess was Sayoko’s grip on his wrist. “Unhand me this instant, you Eleven—”

 

Nunnally couldn’t hear what transpired afterward, as her brother very helpfully covered her ears for a bit, but she could make out the tones and the voices of who had responded, and that the doctor was escorted from the premises very shortly.

 

“I apologize for that uncouth experience,” Sayoko was saying to her afterward as Nunnally found herself adrift after her brother left briefly to apparently escort the doctor out (and make sure he would never return), “I’ll be sure to have someone else, with a thorough background check, on hand if there’s ever a next time. Something like this will not happen again.”

 

“Miss Sayoko…” And the honorific came easily to her after the years of being told that as empress, she needn’t address anyone in such a manner, “What— I didn’t want to alarm big brother, but… what’s going on?”

 

“You had an episode, Mistress Nunnally,” Sayoko told her gently. “And fell out of your chair. Are you experiencing memory lapses? I’ll book you an appointment at the hospital, but we were concerned and wanted to make sure you were looked at immediately—”

 

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that!” It was so easy to fall back into old habits, of trying to cause as little trouble as possible, of just trusting Sayoko and Lelouch to take care of her and every problem in the world. It was almost enough to believe that the last five years hadn’t happened, except… it didn’t lift the alarming fog of confusion from her mind.

 

This had to be a dream somehow. But it didn’t feel like a dream, and even if it was, Nunnally didn’t want to treat it like just a dream— not like the earlier ones she had of being younger, where she hadn’t done anything she wanted to, but instead just re-lived moments in her life.

 

She inched her fingers along the armrests of her chair, feeling out the controls and the worn down motor, shaped to fit her hand. The smoothed fiberglass and the padding for her to rest her arms on comfortably. Guiding her fingers along the underside of the chair slowly, Nunnally felt into the grooves underneath, counting out the lines that she had used as place-markers, to remind herself of the passage of time. It had been a silly thing when she was younger, mostly because her days felt like they might bleed into each other, and Alice suggested that she always have a reminder with her best and worst moments.

 

Sixteen grooves. Sixteen moments in.

 

That would make it… her last year of middle school. It made sense, since she was taken before it ended. But the last she remembered of the grooves before she had been discovered, she had carved in twenty-one lines.

 

That would make it spring. After Suzaku had returned to their side, but before her own kidnapping by the man C.C. had called Mao later on.

 

If this really was a dream, it certainly spared no details.

 

The last three marks had been… Clovis’s death, Zero’s appearance, and then Suzaku’s return.

 

This would also be before Euphemia visited them as well. Before she knew of their existence. Before the death of Shirley’s father, during Zero’s battle with Cornelia at Narita.

 

Whatever was going on, her mind had taken back to a moment in time before everything had gone wrong. Well. Almost everything, seeing as this meant her brother had already advanced his plans and donned the mantle of Zero, the knight of justice. It meant that Cornelia was now the Governor-General Viceroy of Japan, and that Euphemia was with her, venturing outside of Pendragon for the first time.

 

While Cornelia had been reluctant to part with the information, the original reason Euphemia had insisted on accompanying her sister hadn’t only been because she hadn’t wanted to be parted, or because she wanted to be trusted with more responsibility: it had been because she wanted to see Japan. To see the country that had taken the lives of two of her beloved siblings.

 

Nunnally felt herself shaking as she felt the grooves she made under the armrests of her chair. It was the same chair she used at home, more compact and less durable, but the weight of it smoother to allow her more maneuverability.

 

Sayoko’s hands rested on the back of Nunnally’s wheelchair, the slight movement and pressure a familiar presence against her back, ensuring that the maid would take care of whatever needed to be done.

 

“I’ll schedule an appointment,” she said, “Master Ashford would insist on it.”

 

She didn’t want to spend her imaginary hours at some imaginary doctor, but couldn’t find it within herself to disagree.

 

“In the meanwhile, I’ve let the school know that you and Master Lelouch will be taking the day off.”

 

Nunnally sighed, not particularly loud, but the breath was fond. “He can’t keep skipping classes.”

 

Sayoko’s response was amused, “Yes, Master Ashford has tried to talk with him about it. But Master Lelouch has managed to keep up his grades regardless, and I can not fault him for being— unmoved by the normal classes.”

 

Yes, that was true. Her brother had always been so bright, and school bored him immensely. Had it not been for the fact that they were trying to blend in with the rest of society, then he might have long finished school already, having skipped more than several grades just because he could, in order to escape the mediocrity of _classes_.

 

Nunnally herself enjoyed her classes and found them just challenging enough— her teachers may not always be the nicest, but they did try, and they tried to make it easier for her to learn the subject matter as well despite her inability to see. Alice used to read what was on the board to her, but her teachers had soon learned to make most of the lessons oral, and spell out names and places that Nunnally might have trouble writing down for her notes.

 

It was a real shame, though. The two of them had been used to the accelerated courses given to royal children, and Lelouch in particular had excelled in just about every academic subject to the point of challenging his teachers even as a young child. He regaled her with stories of them younger, and claimed that Nunnally too had baffled their tutors with the speed she finished her work or learned new subjects.

 

She didn’t know if that was truth, or his fondness for her talking.

 

Her brother’s footfalls made its way back after the chime of the door that indicated someone left, and Nunnally was feeling about in her chair at that point, marveling at the realism of this dream (or whatever it was), when he spoke to Sayoko in hushed tones, not low enough to keep her out of the conversation, but just low enough to let her know that whatever had him angry earlier was gone.

 

Her brother’s anger, she knew, was a terrible, brutal thing. But after having burst out into tears the first year after their mother’s death after hearing it, he had done his best to keep his anger out of her— sight, so to say.

 

For the most part, Lelouch Lamperouge was a very mild-mannered student with a rather apathetic if cynical view of the world, who was rarely spurred on to do so much as run. His friends, and other curious bystanders of the school, sometimes tried to figure out what exactly might get more than a mildly annoyed expression from him, not knowing that he already worked hard to maintain a bland facade.

 

She knew it— had known it— for a while already. Just as her brother wore a mask for the rest of the world, and even for her, so too did Nunnally. While he covered his own anger to be gentle with her, so too did she cover her anger with the circumstances that the world left her in, to be less of a burden to him.

 

Sometimes, when she could hear the squeak of pens on whiteboard for minutes on end, she would grow angry with the world, that they couldn’t understand her situation, or even spare a thought for it. She grew angry at herself, for needing the extra help and attention, and grew angry at her family for having left her for dead.

 

The only person she never grew angry with in those moments of hatred so intense she couldn’t even speak with Alice for long minutes, was her brother. She was so instead so, so scared of ever losing him, the one person in the whole world she couldn’t be angry with.

 

Now, after the so-called Zero Requiem, the person she was angriest with, all the time, was him.

 

“I’ll stay with her,” he was saying to Sayoko, “and I’d like to make sure everything’s really okay—”

 

“I’ll book an appointment with an approved doctor,” Sayoko was reassuring him, and then she moved down next to Nunnally with a smile that could be heard in her voice as Nunnally tilted her head up to face the direction she was in. “Don’t worry, Mistress Nunnally. I’m sure you can use the bad dream as an excuse to make Master Lelouch study more with you.”

 

“Sayoko!” He sounded so indignant that she couldn’t help but laugh at his tone.

 

“Yes,” Nunnally latched onto the conversation, already reaching out physically once again for her brother’s hand, which he very gently laid within her own. The echo of memory provided her an overlap of the last time she held his hand before this— of the blood and the cold despite the brightly shining day. His hand was, now, by contrast, so very warm. “I’d like to spend the day with my brother. He’s been gone so often lately…”

 

“Nunnally,” and this time, his words were directed at her, somewhat guiltily, “I’m sorry. I—”

 

“It must be important,” she said, because she knew it was important right now. She knew what was to come in this dream, or whatever premonition this was... whatever higher power that might allow her a few moments with her brother. She wondered if she was meant to continue on this dream, or if she was supposed to confront him and demand the answers she had been seeking for years.

 

If she confronted him, though, did that mean that this dream would end?

 

She didn’t want that to happen.

 

“It must be important,” she repeated when he didn’t deny it, and the same stirring of emotions from the first time around; the first time he started to leave a little more each day, a little longer, came back to her heart, dark as it was. “So long as I’m still important to you too, right?”

 

He took the time to step over, to stop right in front of her wheelchair, never letting go of her hand, and kneeling before her with a smile that could be heard from his words.

 

“Don’t worry, Nunnally. No one could possibly replace you as the very most important to me.”

  


—

  


He stayed with her through the school day and read her stories like he used to, interrupted by lunch and then by Miss Sayoko who said that they would take Nunnally to the doctors now to check on her head properly (overprotective as they all were), and then three of them, accompanied with a few other servants of the Ashford family, were driven in a car to a medical facility that herded Nunnally down the halls in an unfamiliar hospital brand wheelchair where a doctor (much gentler and soft-spoken than the one that morning) asked her question after question about what she was feeling then, and how she was feeling now. A cold stethoscope was pressed against her chest, and she was told to breathe deeply.

 

They took a blood sample, and Nunnally marveled once again when she could feel the pinprick of the needle on her skin, the slight pain another indicator of this strange dream.

 

Both her brother and Sayoko keep her in conversation when the doctors weren’t asking questions, talking about everything from the seasonal flowers to games played by children nowadays, from school assignments to what food she would like for dinner. It was a rather transparent attempt to both calm her and keep her mind off the fact that she was in a hospital, and it took her a while to remember that she once _hated_ hospitals, and would whimper and wheedle her way from needles. She couldn’t stand the cold of hospital rooms, or the bright lights that felt blinding even behind her closed eyelids. She hated the smell of alcohol and cleaning products, so sharp that it burned her nose. Hospitals had been places of pain for her, from her childhood, and it used to be that every time she had an appointment, she could feel the psychosomatic pain of old gunshot wounds, spread through her legs and hips.

 

After regaining her eyesight, Nunnally had taken hospital visits with more aplomb. It was easier when she could see where people were coming from, and see the needles and charts and even the friendly informative posters along the walls.

 

She must have been strangely calm to the both of them, now used to doctor’s visits thanks to years of extra operations in hopes of regaining her ability to use her legs.

 

The operations hadn’t worked, and for a while she had been sick of the long recuperation period before she decided that she would try another method rather than one that would bring her physical pain enough to be dependent on pills if she wanted to get through the day with a clear head.

 

It finally came to a head when the soft-spoken doctor pushed her to another room and then asked that both Sayoko and Lelouch keep out of the room while this test was being taken. They asked after it, and the doctor said that the Ashfords had insisted on an MRI, which was rather extreme for a low chance of concussion, but they hadn’t wanted to take chances in case the episode that morning might be a symptom of something else.

 

Lelouch had grown worryingly quiet at that, and the two of them left while the doctors informed Nunnally of the sounds and feelings that were to come.

 

“It’s fine,” she told them, nervous but not scared. What could they possibly do to her, after all? If this was her dream, then the answer was nothing at all. If this was somehow not some strange hallucination made up by her dying mind, then she doubted the doctor could possibly know both who she really was and want to kill her for some reason. It was reasonable to say that the MRI would but nothing more than an MRI, so all she had to do was lie down and endure the scans while she answered a few questions.

 

It wasn’t the first time she had gone through it, after all, even if she was so much calmer this time around.

 

It was a quick test, and then she was wheeled out once again, holding on to her brother’s hand as he was allowed back with her, this time with him gripping back tighter than before.

 

“I’m okay,” she told him, reading the tension in his palm. She tilted her head up toward him with a smile. “I promise.”

 

Maybe it was an empty one, especially if this was a dream, but it was no more than the type of lies that she was best at— to reassure. To placate.

 

It seemed that both she and her brother were quite the accomplished liars.

 

She wondered what he would do, if this wasn’t a dream at all. If somehow this was really happening, and there was something wrong with her brain. What if the last five years, everything from Zero’s actions to her brother’s death, to the time she had ruled over the world and her search for the truth— what if they were the real dream, feeling as real as this one?

 

She shivered, and Sayoko draped a thin fleece blanket over her shoulders.

 

The rest of the hospital visit was a blur in her mind, with the same doctor taking care in her questions, and several uncomfortable pokes and prods that stopped when it got close to her eyes and her brother snapped at them to back off.

 

It must have brought such pain to him, to see her closed eyes every day and know that it was trauma that kept them closed. That no matter what he did, he couldn’t manage to make her feel safe enough that she wanted to face the world once again. He was so protective of her, and even more so whenever doctors came in to poke and prod at her eyes. She knew that there was nothing physically wrong with her eyes. If she could just open then of her own free will, then she would be able to see. If the doctors just pried her eyelids up, then she would see them.

 

She was almost tempted to let them do it.

 

“Don’t,” she let her brother say instead, “don’t touch her eyes.”

 

 _It’s just psychosomatic!_   She wanted to yell. _Maybe they should pry them up— glue them up!_

 

She didn’t, and gripped tightly onto her brother’s hand.

  


—

  


The dream didn’t end.

 

Or perhaps, it was more accurate to say that Nunnally ended up falling asleep after an emotional day, most of the time spent clinging to her brother and barely getting the moments of privacy to ask him the endless amounts of questions that she wanted to ask, with Sayoko hovering over the both of them in concern. She barely noticed the dinner she ate, or the hours that passed despite her refusal to go to bed, in fear that if she did, then this dream would come to an end.

 

She must dozed off lightly on the sofa because she awoke to movement and found herself under a light blanket, still clinging tightly to Lelouch, who must have dozed off as well from his deep and even breaths. His arm was wrapped lightly around her and his collarbone sharp under her cheek, and she could feel warm breaths against the top of her head.

 

She lifted her head just an inch, facing the source of sound she heard that disturbed her sleep, although Nunnally was still bewildered at the idea that she could sleep in a dream. _Was_ this a dream?

 

There was the sound of a quiet and familiar chuckle that swept the majority of the sleepy cast in her thoughts off, and she recognized Sayoko’s warm presence standing a distance away. It was strange and frightening for the world to be dark once more despite the fact that she was awake, but the warmth surrounding her make her world soft around the edges, and she decided instead to turn and rest her weight against her brother, flexing her slightly numb fingers that had been interlaced together tightly while she was asleep. Lelouch shifted and murmured something incomprehensible, but then settled once more.

 

Sayoko chuckled again, the sound soft and lilting, and Nunnally smiled at that despite her intention to ignore the rest of the world and fall asleep once more, right here on the sofa.

 

Her footsteps, near silent as it was, came forward and soon Nunnally felt Sayoko’s gentle fingers tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, presumably doing the same to Lelouch as well.

 

“As comfortable as this must be,” she said, voice barely even a whisper and filled with fondness, “it’s time for the two of you to head to bed if you want to get up in time for school tomorrow.”

 

She wasn’t worried about school, though, not when the warmth and safety made her feel like a small child again, secure in the knowledge that all was right with the world.

 

Sayoko tsked at their lack of response, but exhaled a fond breath as this time she worked on waking Lelouch, instead. He stirred at the light touch on his shoulder, and Nunnally tightened her grip in disapproval, which only served to wake him up more.

 

“Master Lelouch,” Sayoko said, not bothering to hide the smile or fondness in her tone, “it’s time for bed. There are still classes to attend in the morning, for the both of you.”

 

Lelouch seemed to grumble, but then pushed himself straighter, even as Nunnally refused to let go. He laid a hand on her hair, and she just tightened her grip as he lifted his head, apparently taking in his surroundings and Sayoko before he nodded sleepily with her assessment. As he tried to detangle himself from the blankets and Nunnally’s grip, she just frowned and shook her head, pressing the side of her face against the uniform he never changed out of.

 

His breathy laugh had her tilting her head up in amazement, although it still didn’t stop her from protesting, “Stay?”

 

She might not have been able to see him shake his head, but could feel his movement and the quiet affection in the gesture.

 

“You’ll hurt your neck sleeping like this.” He told her.

 

It was more than that, she knew, since she couldn’t completely feel her legs sometimes. It meant that if she moved awkwardly and cut off blood flow for a few hours, then she might not even notice, which made it important to stretch out properly.

 

She was an adult now, mentally, but that didn’t factor in with her brother there after so long, and it must have showed somehow. “...You’ll be here in the morning?”

 

In case this was a dream.

 

“Of course.” Lelouch said, a smile in his tone. “You’re stuck with me.”

 


	6. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will get back to this chapter! This past week has been a doozy for me, and attempting to find typos in this last night resulted in a lot of frustration when this chapter just kept going and going... and I finally looked at the word count to see it hit 12.5k before giving up and going to sleep, LOL. Once again, a little bit further into the plot!

 

When Nunnally turned nine years old, her brother took her out on a forested path she had never been able to go before, filled with wild flowers and sweet grasses; a path prohibited to her because it hadn’t been wide enough, stable enough, for her wheelchair. 

 

Instead, her brother, still small and thin limbed, carried her on his back, as he had that first year she was injured, and Nunnally herself wore a small pack that would carry their picnic blanket and lunch. 

 

Milly wanted to accompany them at first, all pouts and protests until her parents insisted she leave them alone until the dinner when they would make all of Nunnally’s favorite foods. The Ashford family who hosted them and continuously took care of them were far too kind. 

 

But the day of her birthday, Nunnally would have her brother all to herself. 

 

She loved Milly dearly, especially since the older girl had been sweet and welcoming from the start, clinging to the both of them with open arms in the way of a girl who had grown up a single child and then introduced to playmates, but Nunnally could never help but wonder if Milly resented them sometimes, in those moments of in-between quiet, because once upon a time Milly Ashford would have grown up with the influence of nobility and the imperial court behind her, but now she was… just here. In Japan, without the stability of a noble title at her back, at the edge of the empire and harboring two royal children whom must never be found. 

 

They climbed a steep path, filled with strange lights and stranger noises, the buzzing of insects and the rush of breezes between leaves. Nunnally had been so excited that day, because the two of them were allowed to skip out from school and she marveled over the fact that it was still warm enough on her birthday for them to go around hiking in the woods. 

 

Japan was so different from the Aries Villa, where the cold front was already in effect by the end of October. Here, it was still warm with the hint of fall— not hot and not cold, making it feel like the perfect weather for an outing. 

 

He was stronger at that time than he was two years previous to that, when Nunnally could feel his entire body shaking as he struggled to carry her up a seemingly endless flight of stairs. While Lelouch still struggled at points, his movements were more steady and sure, and she didn’t worry anymore that he might drop her at some point and pass out himself. It allowed her to move her head about and enjoy the scenery— to follow the buzzing of insects and dappled lights through the trees. 

 

That was one of her favorite things in the whole world, other than her brother: the lights that fell between leaves above her. It was the ultimate reassurance that one day, maybe soon, she might regain her sight. If she could see the light and the dark so clearly underneath her closed eyelids, then surely her eyesight couldn’t be too damaged by the accident. 

 

She remembered so much of that day, and so clearly— from the smells in the air, to the slight pressure of the bag that dug into the top of her back, to the warmth of her brother and his heartbeat as he struggled up the path, only the slightest bit unsteady. 

 

They settled down in a shaded area that must have been very beautiful, and shared tea and sandwiches that her brother prepared. They laughed and joked and giggled over everything from pranking teachers at school, Milly’s tendencies to invade their space all the time, what Suzaku must be doing now, and what the rest of their siblings might be up to. 

 

“I wonder how they’re doing,” Nunnally had said wistfully at one point, head tilted upwards to enjoy the sky that she couldn’t see. “And if they miss us. Things could have been so different. What do you think would have happened to us if we stayed?”

 

Her brother was quiet for a moment, but before Nunnally could worry, he responded, “Well, we wouldn’t be able to have this picnic. We would have to have it indoors.”

 

There was a smile in his tone, and it emboldened Nunnally to continue down a path of questions she had never dared to before. “Are you still mad at father? I wish we could at least tell Euphie where we are, so that she can write letters to us. She would write. She loved us a lot.”

 

“...She did, didn’t she?”

 

“I wonder if Cornelia came for us,” she wondered aloud, the thoughts coming easier for her, having already imagined such a scenario back during the invasion. It was easier to bear, back then, when she could wonder if each of those sounds— explosions, machines, gunfire— might have come from a friendly face rather than the hostile darkness. It was easier to sleep at night when she wondered if some of their family might have come, or at least sent orders of knights, to come find them and take them back home. 

 

She ate her sandwich slowly, with Lelouch sometimes reaching out to card his fingers through her hair and dislodge a stray leaf, and dreamed of another world with bright lights and large ballrooms, of ladies in feathers and gowns, and men who bowed when she entered the room. The memories were already starting to dim in her mind, but she didn’t think she’d ever be able to forget Aries Villa, no matter how old she got. 

 

Nunnally used to be so angry during the invasions, that it was easier to pretend things weren’t as bad. And the longer she pretended, the easier it all was to bear. 

 

When her brother didn’t say anything in response, Nunnally asked, “Do you still miss mother?”

 

She did— she did, but at the same time, the pain of it was starting to fade. Even without their mother, without the support of their father, without the backing of the imperial court and their titles behind them, she had her brother with her. She had Milly, and the rest of the Ashford family. 

 

(And then she thought she might understand Milly just a little bit more, then.)

 

“Of course not,” her brother claimed after a few moments. He sounded a bit breathy, but confident. “I don’t miss any of them at all! Not as long as I have you, Nunnally. I wouldn’t miss them at all.”

 

It cheered her immensely, although she didn’t understand why. He sounded so sure, so loving there, that she reached her hands out for him, only to feel him flinch back when her fingers touched his face. 

 

She would have thought it because he hadn’t been looking in her direction then, or something of the sort, if she hadn’t felt the tears wet the tip of her fingers.

  
  


— 

  
  


She startled awake in the middle of the night. 

 

The room was pitch black, and Nunnally’s arms trembled just slightly as she pushed herself up, feeling strands of long hair cling to the damp skin of her neck and forehead, and breathed out sharply. It was too warm, far too warm, but— 

 

It was silent in the night, no signs of anything wrong, and Nunnally found her muscles starting to relax after a few moments before she recognized the presence that had likely been what woke her up. 

 

“C.C.?” She called out to a corner of the room, wondering just why the palace was so dark. “What are you doing here?”

 

While she had gotten used to the other woman wandering about wherever she pleased, C.C. usually tried to respect her privacy, or perhaps it was that she didn’t feel the need to intrude any further. The eerie and almost inhuman presence in the dark was definitely her’s.

 

She wondered for a moment if the woman had somehow detected her strange dream, the one she had been so reluctant to leave.

 

“Is there something wrong?” Nunnally asked instead when the woman seemed reluctant to answer. 

 

Finally, soft footsteps sounded out, near silent but ever so loud in the middle of the dark. She wondered who drew the curtains around her windows, as she had a tendency of leaving them open for the moonlight. C.C. stopped right next to her bed, and Nunnally turned curiously. 

 

Cool fingertips skimmed down her cheek, and while Nunnally frowned, she didn’t flinch away. If something was truly and urgently wrong, C.C. wouldn’t be here now or taking her time. 

 

Nunnally wondered now if it was C.C. who had a strange dream, and had come to her. 

 

The fingers tilted her head up higher, and C.C.’s presence shifted closer in the dark, close enough that Nunnally could almost feel the fall of green hair close to her face. The touch was still curious, and Nunnally was relaxed under it, not feeling anything unusual or dangerous yet. 

 

In a move was sudden enough that she didn’t have time to tense, C.C. leaned closer and gently pried up an eyelid— and had her eyes been closed this entire time? Nunnally flinched back in that moment, a panic overtaking her senses as the woman’s gaze met hers, the stare bland and blank as it used to be. 

 

The curtains  _ had _ been open, and the moonlight bright— bright enough to silhouette C.C. under a strangely monochrome look. 

 

“What—?”

 

“I knew it.” C.C. said with the slightest frown, and now Nunnally could see her and her discontent, still glossing over the fact that the room had been so dark only because her eyes hadn’t been opened— it had been so long, did she just retain that habit at night and not know about it? “I thought I sensed you.”

 

That didn’t make sense at all, and Nunnally struggled in her grip until the woman let go, and she squeezed her eyes back shut against the dry pain that came with being forced open. When the pain strengthened into something a little annoying, Nunnally brought her fingers up to press against her eyes, willing the ache to go away. 

 

“What are you doing?” Nunnally demanded, indignant, because it was one thing to invade her room in the middle of the night for something, but it was another thing altogether to poke at her eyes and then be so cryptic about it. “Of course you sensed me. I’m right here!”

 

The slight daze that came with the moment of waking was slipping away from her, and Nunnally was just now starting to realize how bizarre this situation was. 

 

She could feel as C.C. moved away, and then the dip in her bed as the woman sat down, her gaze still on her. 

 

“I wondered at first,” C.C. said. “But wasn’t certain. After all, it doesn’t work on me, and it’s not as if you’re ever left on your own, either. But now I can be sure. You’re very different than when you’re with your brother.”

 

Nunnally grimaced. “Of course I am. What’s your point?”

 

A pause. “You are a mystery, Nunnally vi Britannia.”

 

She wasn’t that much of a mystery. She just wasn’t as simple as people liked to pretend that she as, like she could be figured out just because they looked at her and could see her youth, her smile, and her demeanor, and then they would know all they needed to know about her. 

 

“I wonder… do you even know that you’re using it?”

 

And now, she had enough of the cryptic messages in the middle of the night. She thought she had already gotten over that hurdle with C.C.

 

“Using  _ what? _ ” Nunnally asked, feeling just slightly peeved as awareness took her. Whatever discomforting dream she had woken up from because of C.C., she was starting to think it was better than this, whatever this was. Her eyes ached, and her limbs were tired from the interrupted sleep, and while she might have been calm before, still in a somewhat dreamlike state, that calm was soon failing her. 

 

“Your Geass.”

 

_ That _ gave her pause. 

 

“What?” she exclaimed in disbelief, thoughts screeching to a stop. Was that why her eye hurt? What was she doing? What  _ was _ her Geass, exactly? 

 

(“He wouldn’t approve,” C.C. repeated when Nunnally insisted, after their first long talk. 

 

“If by ‘he’, you mean Zero, then I already knew that he wouldn’t approve.” Nunnally told her quite plainly. She already prepared herself for his disapproval years ago, and inured herself to it within months of her decision. “And if by ‘he’, you meant someone else, then I’d rather not hear it right now. It’s not their decisions— it’s mine. And yours, and you said that you were alright with it. Even if it  _ is _ a mistake… it’s my mistake to make.”)

 

C.C. seemed to pause. “So you don’t know.”

 

“I don’t— of course I don’t know! You just told me that I’d know if and when I needed to use it, but I probably wouldn’t get around to it—” 

 

Once again, the other woman’s presence was almost too close for comfort. It peeved Nunnally, knowing that she had to rely on the senses developed during her years blind to know things like this, when she could normally see her coming. Her her brother also been irritated by C.C.’s apparent lack of personal space?

 

“When was this?” C.C. demanded. 

 

“When was— Monday? Just last Monday? You thought it might show up immediately, but then it didn’t, and you said that it might take some time— or never even show up at all.”

 

C.C. was silent, although her frown was palpable even in the dark. “It’s not unstable,” the woman finally concluded, sounding rather vexed. “But you seem have it on even in your sleep. No. Especially then. Something to do with dreams? Memories, maybe?”

 

Nunnally was desperately trying to connect the tiny clues that C.C. was laying out. Was she activating her Geass in her sleep? Why, and to what end? Was it— no. Could it have anything to do with the dreams she had lately, so real that she could swear they were bits of her memories?

 

“It is allowing me to relive my memories in my dreams?” She asked aloud. 

 

“...No. It’s active even now.”

 

That didn’t tell her anything at all! “But I don’t feel any different!” Nunnally protested. “Except… well, my eyes hurt a little. But it’s not painful.”

 

“Can you make the pain go away?” C.C. asked.

 

“Oh, yes,” Nunnally responded sarcastically, the flare of irritation only building at that question. What a thing to ask. It almost felt like the times when people had mindlessly told her that she could push her grief away, or that if she tried hard enough (and it was an outrage to hear from a teacher as a child), then she very obviously could open or eyes or push her legs to obey her. “Because that’s certainly something anyone can do.”

 

“No, then.”

 

She didn’t dignify that with an answer. 

 

“And the last thing you remember… before your eye starting hurting?”

 

“Sleeping.” Nunnally snapped back, and then breathed out for a long moment as she realized she shouldn’t be losing her temper. Despite C.C.’s manner of questions, they were all genuinely meant to inform and help her. “...Sorry. I’m just— tired, I guess. A little on edge.”

 

C.C. hummed a little in thought. “Did it hurt, then? In the morning?”

 

Nunnally made a noise of curiosity. 

 

“Your episode.” The other woman elaborated impatiently. “Your little tumble this morning.”

 

“I didn’t—” She hesitated. But she did, didn’t she? It had been so long that Nunnally had fallen, half because she was usually in a chair and handled so carefully when she wasn’t, and half because the world expected her to move so fluidly that she usually took her time the moment she felt the slightest wobble, not wanting to end up on tabloids just for some unfortunately stumble. 

 

The older woman waited patiently from where she was sitting at the edge of the bed, and Nunnally made an undignified noise as she processed the thought. “But that wasn’t— I had a dream. Where I fell. But the last thing I remember—” 

 

_ The glint of a knife. Wide blue eyes. C.C.’s shout. The swirl of skirts around her legs. _

 

_ The shining chandeliers as she stumbled back, overly bright. _

 

“A dream?” C.C. sounded rather amused. “That certainly wasn’t a dream. You had your brother in a panic all day. I couldn’t even get near you until now.”

 

_ Her brother? _

 

“Yes,” the woman said, and Nunnally realized she must have asked that out loud. “Surely you know how overprotective he is of you. It must be stifling, really. Having him always hovering over you, having to know exactly what’s going on.”

 

“It’s not,” she denied. “It’s sweet.”

 

It might have felt stifling at times, but she knew that Lelouch tried his hardest to give her room to breathe as well. It was a strangely tense relationship the two of them had, overly dependent on each other but at the same time too awkward to admit it. 

 

A part of it was their own fault, she knew, because she didn’t want to worry him any more than she had to, and he hadn’t wanted to worry her either; and another part was the world, so strict in the rules that they needed to rely on other people as well, or there had to be something wrong with them. It was hard to rely on others when Nunnally remembered the rejection of the court, the sting always fresh when the news channels continued to talk about how beautiful and wonderful the royal family were. 

 

Everyone who reinforced that notion felt like an enemy to her, and she knew that was the same for her brother as well. 

 

But— that wasn’t what was wrong with C.C.’s statement!

 

“Oh, really?” C.C. asked. “Even when he doesn’t give you any time alone at all?”

 

“He—” Nunnally frowned, jaw tense. “I don’t want him to leave me alone.”

 

But more than that was the implication in the woman’s words. The way they were spoken, and the wording chosen made Nunnally wonder if she might know what her Geass was after all. Except it seemed impossible, especially with all the examples she had been given. Warnings. 

 

“Hey, C.C.,” she called out, bringing her hands away from her eyes once again. “I can’t— seem to open my eyes.”

 

The woman didn’t respond, and Nunnally’s movements grew agitated. 

 

“Is that normal?” She asked, and then said, “You didn’t tell me that could happen.”

 

“And what did I tell you might happen?”

 

She hated this dancing around the subject, but it didn’t feel like something she could just bring up out of the blue. There was something delicate in this moment, when Nunnally wasn’t sure if she was still dreaming or not, and whether she would be able to tell if this was the power of her Geass. 

 

She thought of Sayoko’s gentle words, and crying in her brother’s arms. She thought of the notches under the arm of her wheelchair, and the doctor’s appointment she couldn’t remember getting. 

 

Instead of answering the question, Nunnally asked, “C.C…. what day is it?”

 

There was a huff, before the woman answered, “Friday. It’s after midnight now.”

 

“The date,” she insisted. 

 

The answer made her reel. 

 

“Ahh.” Was C.C.’s response. “So you do know what your Geass is, then.”

  
  


— 

  
  


“It’s not possible.” Nunnally insisted, even as she yanked at her blankets for lack of anything else to grab at and tangle her fingers in. It wouldn’t do for her to pull at her own hair. “Geass are abilities of the mind. That affect other people.”

 

She could feel C.C. nod slightly in agreement, the woman by now sprawled out on Nunnally’s bed waiting for her to figure things out. 

 

“This has to be a dream,” Nunnally murmured to herself, running her fingers along the dips and fabrics of her duvet. She could feel the needlework, the stitching, the seams. It was both warm from sleep, and cool to the touch. It certainly felt real enough, more detailed than any dream she’s had— although in dreams, Nunnally had never truly been aware enough to question the details of what made up a dream. “..or not. Maybe I— made this up? Somehow?”

 

“I would be unaffected,” C.C. dismissed her theory. 

 

“The alternative isn’t possible.” She said. “So there has to be another theory.”

 

But she couldn’t really think up anything else. Either she really had managed to throw herself back in time— something that Geass wouldn’t have been able to do— or this was some elaborate dream of hers, affecting her own mind… and somehow C.C.’s?

 

“Maybe I’m dead,” she muttered to herself, tightening and loosening her grip on her blankets. She made a frustrated sound, though, as she tried once again to open her eyes and failed. “But if that’s the case, then why I am still— stuck?”

 

She couldn’t will her legs to move, and couldn’t open her eyes. It was so frustrating, especially since she knew that she managed to push past her closed lids before, at a moment that she once thought so important before, but ended up being a lie. 

 

If she were dead, she didn’t think that she’d still be stuck in a body as uncooperative as this. 

 

But if she wasn’t— if she was somehow in the past— then… did that mean she had a chance to change things?

 

_ ‘I wish I hadn’t been so weak.’ _

 

She had been obsessed with unraveling what happened during this time, once. She could remember the timeline she built, trying to keep track of what her brother had done, where he had been, in those times he was missing. In previous years, Lelouch had gone to various places without her, yes, usually out playing chess or something else that was frowned upon for a student, but not outright dangerous. 

 

The date C.C. had given, however, was right before the Battle at Narita. She remembered laying a pin over that date during the time she was trying to figure everything out. A lot of people would die in the battle, but it was a victory for Zero that would prove the Black Knights as a legitimate threat to the Empire. 

 

Could she change things? Did she dare?

 

If she told her brother that she knew what was to come, and the events to pass… would she be able to improve things? Or would she change everything for the worse?

 

It hurt her brain, and made her realize too vividly that she didn’t have enough information. She, C.C., and Suzaku had barely scratched at the events of what happened— enough for give her an outline, enough to lay some demons to rest, and enough for the worst to be understood, but… 

 

She had never thought to ask for specific details. They hadn’t gotten to that yet, since Nunnally had accepted that healing would take time, and that they had all the time in the world. 

 

“If,” she said, and then hesitated, “If this is my Geass, then— then I can turn it off, right? You said it wasn’t unstable. And it’s too early for it to be have developed into something I can’t control.” She could feel C.C. tense, but dismissed it for now, “And if I do that, then… what? Would I end up back where I started?”

 

“In the future?” C.C. questioned. 

 

_ Would _ she end up back in the future, though? Nunnally was uncertain about her own future, about the path that she might have taken. The flash of that knife meant that she might not even have a future to return to. 

 

So why was she—  _ here _ , then? At this moment in time, when it was unimportant to her?

 

“This can’t have been the first time,” she said to herself, and thought about the dreams she’d been having that past week. Ever since C.C. had given her Geass. 

 

Why hadn’t she put that together? 

 

She had— dreamt of this time. Sometime. Of Ashford Academy, she was sure, although the exact date and year was uncertain. And she dreamed of further in the past— before her mother’s assassination, when her greatest fears had been monsters hiding in the storm. 

 

There had been a few more dreams, blurry, half realized. Moments in her sleep, in her dreams, that took her back to a point in her past before landing her here— suddenly. Violently. 

 

As violently as the moment she left in the future. 

 

Could she control it, then? If she wasn’t stuck to— two places in time. If she could turn her Geass on and off, and direct where she ended up? 

 

“Where is he?” she asked suddenly. If she could do this… or couldn’t… then what would she do? Could she go back to the future, with the chance that she had been  _ here _ , in the past, and had tested her Geass with the possibility of never being able to return to this moment? What if this was a one-off? Just a singular chance to see her brother again?

 

(A geass is a wish, C.C. had explained. It was powerful, but limited. With Nunnally’s greatest wish concerning a person five years dead, she didn’t think it was a wish that could be granted.)

 

“Lelouch.” Nunnally insisted. She was pushing herself out of her blankets now, hands outstretched to find the wheelchair that she knew would be placed right next to her bed. It would be a pain, but she could get herself out of bed and into her chair, and she could be mobile— she had the layout of the home easily memorized, and even years of living elsewhere, she could see the hallways in her mind. “Is he asleep?”

 

“Don’t bother.” C.C. told her. “I told you, didn’t I? He wouldn’t let me anywhere near you. The only reason I’m here is because he’s not home.”

 

Her movements faltered and she lamented, “Not here?”

 

“He has other things to take care of, and didn’t want to leave you by yourself today. Things that he should have taken care of already.”

 

The upcoming Battle of Narita. 

 

It meant he was likely with the Black Knights, and Nunnally didn’t know where they were hidden. 

 

She could— she could call him, she knew. He would answer, no matter the hour of the day. She could call, but then she’d have to reveal that she knew he wasn’t in the house, and that she… what? Knew about his activities? Was from the future? Had Geass? 

 

It wasn’t something she wanted to say over the phone. 

 

If she wanted him home, she’d have to call and… tell him something. A lie, maybe. He’s come straight home if she was feeling bad, considering the doctor’s appointment before. They had yet to get her results, and while she knew there was nothing wrong with her, he didn’t. She could play off that. 

 

Except she would never. 

 

No. She’d have to let him conduct his business with the Black Knights. But she couldn’t leave— couldn’t even imagine leaving, without at least saying something to him. It would be hypocritical of her, when she decried his choice of leaving her as often as she did. At the very least, he had always told her in advance when he would be gone, even if the trip would take him days.  _ Especially _ when a trip might take days. 

 

If she managed to turn off the Geass to go back… and then couldn’t make her way back here, then he deserved to know something. 

 

Just like she had wanted him to tell her when he was going. 

 

No, she couldn’t do that to him. It didn’t matter if the ache persisted in her eye, she would have to stay here and not attempt anything until he came home. 

 

“I’ll wait,” she said, pulling back once again and sighing. It was the middle of the night, after all. “I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t interrupt.”

 

C.C. snorted at the decision. “You should if you want to. You’d be the only one allowed to interrupt his plans. You should definitely bring that boy’s ego down a notch if you can manage it.”

 

It made her smile, strangely enough, to hear C.C. call him that. “...I don’t want to be a hindrance to him. I’m— I’m already weak enough as it is. I don’t want to drag him down because of me, too.”

 

“He deserves to be dragged.” C.C. grumbled, and it was so stark a contrast to the manner in which the woman had spoken of her brother in the past (or the future, to think of it) that it startled Nunnally slightly. The C.C. she had known had gotten snappy whenever Suzaku had a bad word to say about Lelouch, and had been both wistful and nostalgic, Nunnally remembered, enough that despite the bland expression, it was easy to see the fondness when she spoke about him. 

 

It made her smile just the slightest bit. “He and Sayoko work very hard to take care of me.”

 

It was one thing she never lost sight of, not because either of them would ever use that against her, but because she could never forget it. And she remembered at this age— how Milly would laugh about all those P.E. classes Lelouch skipped, and Rivalz would mock complain about being given all the heavy labor of the student council because her brother just wasn’t strong enough for it. 

 

It always felt so strange, because to a fourteen year old Nunnally, her older brother had been the strongest person in the entire world, and no one could compare, not even Suzaku. 

 

C.C. stayed silent, likely because she could not refute that statement, and Nunnally picked at her duvet again, feeling awkward and small. 

 

“You know,” the woman said, after a while, “You’re not as weak as you think you are. You might need help, but you have a lot more power than you think.”

 

Nunnally pursed her lips bitterly. “Yeah? And what power do I have? I don’t even know how to use this— this Geass, properly.”

 

“I don’t mean that.” C.C. dismissed, “although if what you’re saying is correct, that is certainly more powerful than anything I’ve seen. No. You’re powerful because you’re loved.”

 

There was a shifting sound, and she could feel the woman’s eyes on her, the gaze as sharp as ever. 

 

“When you’re loved, people will go to great lengths for you. You could ask for the world, and your brother would hand it to you.”

 

The words left a bitter feeling in her mouth. Nunnally shook her head vehemently.  _ A kinder and more gentle world, huh? _ “I don’t want the world. I don’t want anything like that from him. I just want him— here. With me.”

 

“If you tell him that,” C.C. said with that piercing stare, “then he would give you that as well.”

  
  


— 

  
  


It wasn’t a dream.  _ It wasn’t a dream _ . 

 

She couldn’t sleep after that, C.C.’s words echoing through her head. 

 

And even if it  _ was _ a dream, all of it, then she had managed to stay in this dream-world of her creating. And if she stayed, then she might be able to change things. Nunnally might have felt just a pinch guilty about the ease in which she was willing to give up the shining future that her brother created, but… 

 

“ _ You have more power than you know, Nunnally vi Britannia. _ ”

 

Could she bring herself to believe that? Even in the future, in the waking world, whatever it was, despite being the empress, Nunnally had the bare minimum of power— things might go her way, but decisions were more likely to be run through Schneizel and Zero than her. They were more knowledgeable, and she acquiesced to their call each time.

 

If she were truly powerful, then she could have found a way to show the world the truth of what happened, instead of hiding in her brother’s mausoleum for comfort. If she were powerful, then why couldn’t she so much as wear a dress of her own design? 

 

Why did she, the Empress of Britannia, stand and be scolded by Schneizel as if she were a child with a hand in the cookie jar? 

 

And now here she was, if this wasn’t a dream (did she dare believe that?), with knowledge of things to come, and the power to  _ change _ things. Real power, rather than the bits and pieces that were given to her after it was cleaned and blanched to something more palatable. Geass. The power of kings. 

 

What if she made things worse, though? What if she destroyed everything that her brother worked to create, and render his sacrifice pointless? If she told her brother— no. He would put her knowledge to work on a new plan, but she couldn’t be sure if it would be a plan she could agree with. Once upon a time, she might have mindlessly agreed with him on just about everything, but that was before he put his own life down as just another one of his chess pieces. 

 

“You are another of my contractors, then.” C.C. had told her with a curious lilt during the conversation in the middle of the night. “Despite my never having offered the power. This will be a pain to explain to Lelouch.”

 

“Don’t,” Nunnally had begged in response. “Let me do it. I just need to— figure out how.”

 

That was, if she could bring herself to explain things to him at all. Would he have, in her place? Of course not. He would have taken that knowledge as his burden to bear, and his right to change events. 

 

She could tell him… that she was from the future, and… what? That his plans had failed? But just the thought of lying to him like that left a bitterness in her being, and she didn’t know if he would just work harder to ensure his plans didn’t fail this time. 

 

How could she even explain what she knew? How could Geass cover— time travel, of all things?

 

(If this wasn’t a dream.

 

“Geass doesn’t affect me.” C.C. admitted. “If this was a dream you created, I would not be affected. But here I am.”)

 

She would have to plan. Would have to… figure out who to include, what to say, how to handle things. She wouldn’t be able to rely on others to take care of the world for her anymore; couldn’t just handwave a job off to either Schneizel or Cornelia, knowing that they would take care of it. 

 

Her opponent, Nunnally knew, would be her own brother. 

 

Her brother, who had conquered the entirety of the world in under two years, with multitudes of battles under his belt, a power that demanded absolute obedience, and all his charisma and intelligence and determination. Her brother whom she had always praised as an unparalleled genius of strategy and military tactics, who could take any loss and turn them into victories. 

 

And what Nunnally had, once again blind and stuck in her wheelchair… would be a knowledge of the future that would turn obsolete the moment she did anything to change the one future that she knew. 

 

_ “You’re powerful because you’re loved.” _

 

And… she had his utter love and devotion. 

 

In order to have the slightest chance against her brother’s plans, she would have to lie to him. She would have to move against him. She’d have to undermine him, because Nunnally  _ knew _ her brother, and knew that even if she admitted what she knew to him and he believed her, he would find the ending of her story satisfactory. He would accept the knowledge of his own death and her safety, and would not change it. 

 

If Nunnally wanted to save her brother’s life, she would have to interfere. 

 

She decided, in the dark of night long after C.C. left, and after she heard the subdued chime of the door that meant someone had come home— likely her brother, after his long outing— that she wouldn’t let the world forget this time; wouldn’t let history write her off as a soft and fragile girl to be protected. 

 

She wasn’t just Nunnally Lamperouge, a beloved little sister protected behind the walls of Ashford Academy. She was Nunnally vi Britannia— and she was the daughter of an Emperor who stomped his legacy through the world, conquering countries by the dozens and reducing them to nothing but mere numbers to be added to the empire. She was the daughter of Marianne the Flash, the first Knightmare pilot, whose sword had danced through the throats of the greatest fighters of the world in order to carve a path in blood for her father. 

 

And most of all, she was the sister of Lelouch vi Britannia— the Demon Emperor. The genius tactician who won wars with insurmountable odds. The tyrant. The schoolboy who held the world in his hands and decided its fate and its future. The man who brought peace, kicking and screaming, and ordered the world to accept it.

 

Nunnally was also a vi Britannia, and she had a lot to live up to. 

 

By the time Sayoko knocked on her door to wake her up for the morning, the maid was surprised to discover that her charge was already up and dressed, sitting in her wheelchair by the window to enjoy the morning sun. 

 

“Good morning, Miss Sayoko,” Nunnally said with a smile. “Is my brother up yet?”

  
  


— 

  
  


Her teachers were all very understanding about her absence, and Nunnally willed her voice to be softer and gentler than what she felt with her worried classmates. She had lost contact with all of them for so long that she could barely remember the names of everyone (something the Nunnally of then would never have done), bitter about the fact that they had all forgotten her. 

 

Thanks to her father’s Geass, Nunnally might have not existed at all, according to those at Ashford. In order to not disturb their lives, Nunnally learned to let go as well. While they all seemed rather nice for their age, she had never bonded too closely with anyone. 

 

Well. Anyone outside of Alice. 

 

“What happened yesterday?” Her friend asked, stepping behind to help guide her wheelchair around the throng of school children between class bells. “I wanted to visit, but your maid picked up when I called, and said that you needed your rest.”

 

Nunnally smiled up at her, finding herself more relieved than she thought she would be at Alice’s voice. The other girl hadn’t remembered who she was at all when Nunnally came back to Ashford after— everything, and that had stung more than she ever imagined it would. 

 

Once upon a time, Alice had been Nunnally’s best friend, sticking up for her against bullies bitter about the preferential treatment that the school gave her, and how she was allowed a  _ maid _ on campus and had the complete attention of her brother, who was popular even in the middle school division although he didn’t seem to know it at all. When the events at the SAZ played out in all its gruesome detail on television, Alice had gripped her hands tightly and whispered that she would never let anything happen to Nunnally. That she would protect her. 

 

All those promises turned to dust after Nunnally was taken back to the royal family, and soon discovered that there was something wrong with the rest of her life— and that no one could remember her anymore. She had requested again and again from the knights to check up on her friends at Ashford Academy, but the knights had all returned to tell her that everything was normal, and that they couldn’t waste time on a school where nothing was going on. 

 

(The knights had all lied to her.)

 

“I had a bit of a stumble,” she said blandly, deciding that to keep that truth. She didn’t want to go into the more emotional aspects of the day before. “So my brother and Miss Sayako scheduled a doctor’s visit for me— not that anything’s wrong! They’re just very careful.”

 

Alice’s steps faltered for just a moment and her tone turned even more worried than before. “If you’re sure,” she said, “but still— a whole doctor’s visit for a fall?”

 

“Ahh,” she gave a nervous giggle, “you know my brother.”

 

And Alice did— as did the whole school, really. It didn’t matter that she attended the middle school while Lelouch was in the high school area of Ashford, all the students knew Lelouch Lamperouge and his little sister. Luckily, in the middle school, it was mostly because of the assistance that Nunnally needed to get around, and the fact that her brother often came to pick her up from school when he had the time. 

 

Sometimes, though, Nunnally would hear some of the girls giggling over her brother, thinking that they were too quiet to be heard, and she would have to deliberately ignore them for a while. But the entire school knew of Lelouch Lamperouge as surely as they knew Milly Ashford— Vice-President and President of the student council, with Milly organizing more and more outrageous events through the year, and Lelouch (too often, lamented her brother) as one of the prizes. 

 

It didn’t matter that none of them had ever really spoken to Lelouch before, half because they were all far too scared, and half because he had no interest in speaking to any of them unless Nunnally expressed an interest— which she almost never did. She knew better than to form a lot of attachments, especially since she knew that he had back-up plans, just in case, where they had to suddenly leave Ashford Academy. 

 

He never spoke too much about the plans, but just enough to know that she knew what to do in case something went wrong. Luckily, they never had to use any of the plans, but…

 

What if she  _ had _ ? When the Empire came for her the last time?

 

“Well, it’s good to be careful.” Alice seemed to agree with the idea. “There’s nothing wrong with a few extra doctor visits, so long as you’re okay! I mean, if nothing’s wrong, then nothing’s wrong, right? No harm done!”

 

There was something of a growing panic in her tone that made Nunnally reach back behind herself to lay a hand on Alice’s, and turn to smile up at her. 

 

“It’s okay, Alice,” she said gently, “I’m okay. Really.”

 

She missed this. Having friends. Them being concerned about her. More than anything else, more than what she thought, she missed  _ Alice _ .

 

She wondered just when they had certain conversations. Talking to the other girl felt so natural that it was hard to pin down when information was shared… like when Alice had first decided that she wanted to be a knight, or wanted to stay with Nunnally. It was a dream that Nunnally had once fostered deep in her heart, because she knew that the possibility of her returning to the royal family had been low enough that she should never entertain the idea of having a knight of her own. 

 

Now it was all she could think about, to talk to Alice about it before the option was taken away from her. Alice once admitted to wanting to be her knight before laughing the notion off nervously, and it had been Nunnally who denied it because she couldn’t risk believing it. But then when she had been taken back to the royal family, they prevented her from keeping contact with people from her previous life. By the time that she managed to get into contact with those in Ashford, they had forgotten all about her. 

 

_ Alice _ had forgotten all about her. 

 

She opened her mouth to ask, but then thought better of it, and turned around again, hoping she didn’t look too worried before that. Should she bring it up? How could she even phrase it? If there was one person she wanted back almost as much as her brother, it had been Alice. But where as she hadn’t been given a choice with one person… with the other, Nunnally had let her go. 

 

In order to give her a better life. A safer one. Now she wonders if that had been the best decision, or if it had been the same kind of decision that her brother had made for her: keep them at a distance to keep them safe. Nunnally didn’t want to do that anymore, not when she might have been given a second chance. 

 

“Will you…?” Why was it so hard to ask? It wasn’t as if she had anything to lose, right? She turned again, tilting to look up at Alice, whom she knew was looking back curiously and maybe somewhat suspiciously. “Would you stay with me, Alice?”

 

“What are you talking about?” Alice asked, voice now darker. There was something else there, Nunnally knew, something that Alice didn’t want to talk about, just as her brother hadn’t wanted to talk about things. Just as she hadn’t wanted to talk about her own past. There was something that Alice was hiding, and she wasn’t sure what, and originally that had made Nunnally suspicious of her. But this time, what was the point of being suspicious? It wasn’t as if the other girl had ever betrayed her, or even gotten the chance to. For her, Alice was a miracle in her life, a best friend of sorts, someone whom she didn’t have to hide her secrets from because she suspected that Alice knew far more than she let on. 

 

(Had that been how her brother felt about Suzaku? How had their friendship shattered so badly?)

 

How much could she tell her? 

 

She tightened her grip on the control of her wheelchair, although it wasn’t turned on to allow for Alice to navigate easier. 

 

“...I just had a bad dream.” Nunnally finally said. A second chance did not necessarily mean a third one would be available to her. While Alice had, once upon a time, reluctantly admitted to her aspirations of knighthood, that time had been in what Nunnally saw as the ‘future’. And it meant it was a future that had yet to happen and might never happen again if she started changing events. “I guess it just— scared me.”

 

It wasn’t a lie. The future that would happen if she just sat back and didn’t intervene was a frightening one to her. 

 

And as much as she genuinely loved Alice, had given up the other girl as her friend past the Requiem, she would now be the target of her— trials. No matter how much her brother loved her, or perhaps because of it, he would be extremely sensitive to her honesty. 

 

She was powerful, because she was loved. 

 

She would have to test on Alice, on others, before she got to her brother. Not Geass, not a power that she could yet to control, but rather, the power C.C. claimed she had all on her own: the fact that others cared for her, loved her, and therefore… they might be more motivated to listen to her. 

 

She breathed out a steady breath, and then relaxed her posture just the slightest bit more. It wouldn’t do to look more tense than she was, more nervous than she wanted to put out. She wouldn’t have been able to do this the first time around, having spent years without her sight and only able to read emotions through the tension in a room. 

 

But now she had five more years under her belt, years to observe just how people looked when they were trying to lie, and when they were telling the truth. Who knew that the near daily meetings with the rich and powerful would actually gain her a useful skill?

 

She brought a hand to her mouth in thought, fingers resting lightly on her lips and drawing her eyebrows just slightly together (although she wasn’t sure if it was too much or not— being able to see would be so much more helpful), turning to rest against the back of her wheelchair in what she hoped was a thoughtful and concerned pose. 

 

“I’m worried,” she admitted to Alice, who seemed to have slowed down on their path to the next class. It wouldn’t take long now, and Nunnally had a limited time for the first step before she let the other girl ruminate over her words. “With everything that’s going on. What if— with Princess Cornelia here in Area 11, what if it means war again? I don’t want to be pulled into a war again.”

 

Alice seemed shocked behind her, whether by Nunnally’s admission, or the prospect of war on the horizon, but she was quick to reassure, “It would never get that bad! Besides, we’re safe. We’re just students. No one wants to pull a school full of innocent kids into a fight. Princess Cornelia would never allow that. We’re Britannians. If there’s going to be a war, it’d be against the Elevens. Nothing would happen to you, Nunnally. I wouldn’t allow it. I’m sure your brother wouldn’t allow it, either!”

 

Therein lay the problem, because of course Lelouch would never allow Nunnally to be put in any kind of danger. No, this time Nunnally intended to push herself toward the danger if she had to. 

 

“I’m worried about him as well.” Here, she brought her hand down again, and turned her head so that she was talking in Alice’s direction, even if it wasn’t directly at her. She could feel the bump under her wheelchair that signified being pushed into a room, heard the kids settling at their desks, and knew she only had a few seconds before Alice would get her settled at her table. “He’s good friends with Suzaku— who is here, at school, too. And Suzaku’s in the army. I’m worried that my brother might end up putting himself in danger if something— bad happened.”

 

A subtle tug at the knowledge that he, and subsequently Nunnally herself, had a hidden power over the common soldiers that they could exercise if they absolutely had to, as a last resort, to reveal their lineage and heritage. She wasn’t sure what exactly Alice knew about her at this very moment, but assumed the other girl had some clue of it with the way Alice brought up the possibility of being Nunnally’s knight in the original timeline. Even so, the other girl had never openly discussed it with her, and thus Nunnally didn’t have a solid confirmation. Just her feelings, and the strange hue that their conversations would sometimes take. 

 

If Alice truly didn’t know, then it would just sound like concern for her brother being reckless. If Alice did know, then there was the concern that her brother might be put into a situation where he’d have to out himself as a Prince, and therefore either also take Nunnally with him back to the royal family, or have her hidden away, even from Ashford Academy, before they could find her. 

 

Both were legitimate options to what she was preparing herself to do. 

 

“If something happens to him, then I.... I wouldn’t be able to do anything. I’d be stuck here, in this chair. Or if something happens to me… what would he do then?”

 

There was a turn, and she could feel the table in front of her, ready for her books and the tablet that would help her record notes that she wouldn’t be able to take. Alice was silent for a moment as she moved to snap the breaks on the wheelchair into place, and then seemed to pause right next to her arm, and lean down. 

 

“Don’t worry.” This time her words were more determined than concerned. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, no matter what.”

 

The other girl moved away, presumably to her own seat, and the teacher finally stood up from his chair to start the lecture. 

 

In her own seat, Nunnally allowed herself a small, shakey smile. 

  
  


— 

  
  


Alice was unusually quiet for the rest of the school day, although she responded when spoken to, and still smiled in Nunnally’s direction when they conversed. Nunnally left her to her thoughts for the most part, knowing that she shouldn’t push the idea of danger any more than that. She had already pushed too hard as it was. Her first attempt at this was blunt; indelicate. It was fine with Alice, who always wanted her to be more upfront to begin with, but Nunnally had a slightly bigger target afterward. 

 

She would let the idea sit on Alice’s mind for however long it took, that perhaps she wasn’t as protected as Alice would like to believe. Lelouch told her that morning that he would be gone for the weekend, similar to what he had said the first time already, although this time he stayed half a day more than before. He was worried about her, Nunnally knew. The results from the doctors had yet to come back, and likely wouldn’t for another few days or so unless they specifically rushed it, but then they would have to have either a good reason or a good position. It was a small price to pay for blending in with the common populace. 

 

As it was, her brother would be missing the student council meeting after classes due to what she assumed was business with the Black Knights. Likewise, it meant that Kallen wouldn’t be there either. And unlike last time, Lelouch had specifically asked the other student council members to look in on her, she knew. He had warned her earlier in the morning to be aware that the others might be hanging around for a little longer, and that if she needed anything, she should go to one of them— and that he would have his phone with him at all times, just in case. 

 

Sometimes, she thought fondly, it did pay to have an overprotective sibling. 

 

Sayoko was already preparing dinner by the time Alice walked her back to the clubhouse, and Nunnally asked sweetly if she could serve tea to the very likely overworked (without at least two of its members) high school student council. 

 

That would buy her a few points with them, as well as a few minutes. Maybe she could offer to help out a little, although there wasn’t much she could do for them, still being in the middle school campus herself. 

 

Where once Nunnally had presented herself as sweet as she could manage purely due to the fact that that was the persona she desperately wanted to present, to  _ be _ Lelouch’s sweet little sister, the girl who deserved the adoration he heaped on her… it was harder now, to remember how she managed that in the first place. 

 

She remembered after her mother’s assassination, when she had first been told that this was what her life would be reduced to: to spending the rest of her years in a wheelchair, to having nothing but the black behind her eyelids, and to lose not just her mother, but her home and everything attached to it. Nunnally had cried— screamed. Those tantrums had been weak then as she was still in great pain, pain that children should never know, and pumped full of medication to accelerate her healing process. She was a princess still, at that point, and therefore entitled to the best that the empire had to offer. But soon after, the best the empire had to offer was given mostly because the Emperor wanted her and her brother gone as soon as possible. 

 

She had been so  _ bitter  _ back then. So hateful. She didn’t wanted anyone in so much as the same room as her, but at the same time, hated being left alone. The world was new and dark and horrible, full of pain and monsters, and Nunnally had yelled at everyone close enough— lashed out at anyone trying to help her. She attacked her doctors, demanding that they do something more, and screamed at Cornelia and Euphemia when they dared visit, even if her struggles against them were weak. But more than those who did visit, she was bitter and resentful over the siblings and family members who didn’t so much as try to look in at her at the hospital. 

 

Even if they were to be subjected to her fury, they should have at least tried. Should have visited her. Should have  _ cared _ . 

 

All through that experience, her brother had been there, the one constant in her life that she was terrified to give up. She would never walk again, might never see again, would never go home, would not be a princess anymore, would not have a mother again, and found out that her father didn’t care for her at all… but as mad as she wanted to be at her brother, her brother who had been spared from the attack, Nunnally was even more scared of losing him. 

 

He was the last, the very last, thread to her sanity at that point. The very last thing that connected her to the world, that kept her from endlessly crying. 

 

He endured her tantrums, retreated when she needed space, but never  _ left _ . She cried more often when she thought he was too far away than when he was close, and therefore Lelouch stayed with her for the duration of her hospital stay with the few exceptions of when she was in surgery or unconscious, when their siblings could drag him away from her. 

 

And weeks after, when she was finally declared stable enough to leave the hospital and the dosage of her medication reduced to something more manageable, Nunnally had cried in fear that perhaps he would leave her as well— not because he was as awful as their father, but because she had been the one to scare him away with her actions. 

 

It was made dangerously aware to her that all she had left in the world was her brother now. Cornelia and Euphemia’s family had not been allowed to take them in. Even Schneizel’s request to the Emperor for custody of his siblings had been denied. And none of them, no matter how powerful, would never act against the Emperor in any way, knowing what happened to her brother when he objected to their treatment. 

 

They would be sent,  _ used _ , as political hostages, only allowed to keep their titles because it would benefit the empire more that way. No one cared about children that the Emperor had disavowed— but a legitimate prince and princess of the empire would be worth far more. That would give the weight the Emperor needed to keep a truce with Japan at the time. 

 

Nunnally hadn’t understood then, but Lelouch had. He tried to throw away his title so that they couldn’t be used in such a manner, but in the end, couldn’t do even that. 

 

The first time Nunnally originally smiled after her hospital stay was because she was scared. Terrified. After the weeks of ill treatment, she wanted to make it up to him— wanted to reassure him that she wouldn’t be so monstrous anymore, that she was worth staying with even if all she could bring him was more problems. Nunnally had originally crafted the facade of the perfect little girl in hopes that her brother wouldn’t leave her. 

 

She had hidden all the rage, shoved down all her disappointment and her anger, until all she could do was shake with those emotions, even as she struggled to be as small and unnoticeable as possible. To take the least amount of space. To cause the least amount of problems. 

 

Look at me, she wanted to convey, I’m not as troublesome as you might think!

 

It was all she could do back then, and soon Nunnally found that she liked the attention her brother gave her when she smiled. She liked when he smiled back, and she liked that she could make even the most stoic of men stop and give her a moment of their time. 

 

Smile, her thoughts told her, smile and maybe you can be less of a burden. Smile and make the world a little better, if not for yourself, then for your brother and the people around you. 

 

Smile, and smile, and  _ smile,  _ even if the world feels like it’s falling apart around you. 

 

Smile, to be good. To be grateful. To be kind and sweet and worth it. 

 

Smile, because it was the only thing she could do for her brother anymore, after he worked to— learn to take care of her. Learn how to cook. Learn how to clean. Struggle to carry her from place to place, and fill the silences she couldn’t yet bring herself to fill, with stories and songs and anything that would distract her from the darkness of her world now. While everything felt like a humiliation for her, her independence completely stripped away so that she couldn’t even figure out how to dress herself anymore in the mornings, after a few months she soon realized her brother also had everything stripped away from him. 

 

His mother. His home. His faith in his father and siblings. All he was left was with her, a cruel and broken girl that he had to care for at all times because Nunnally couldn’t so much as feed herself anymore without spilling everything thanks to pain and disorientation. They had been stripped even of the country they were sent to, where he had to learn quick in order to survive and take care of her. 

 

While Nunnally relearned how to do basic tasks, and to orient herself, Lelouch had learned life skills that a prince of Britannia never had to care for before. He studied the foreign language of a country they were unfamiliar with, and forced himself to grow up faster than she could fathom. 

 

It took her years to fully recognize it, and by then, Nunnally couldn’t figure out how she could ever begin to express her gratitude. 

 

If he had just tossed her aside the rest of their siblings, Lelouch could have been spared being exiled. He could have grown up in Pendragon, as a beloved prince and one of the more promising of the royal children. He could have studied under Schneizel, and started impressing the court. He could have been put in charge of entire Areas, acknowledged for his intelligence and charisma rather than being forced to hide as a nondescript student. 

 

She had no illusions about how her brother would have  _ excelled _ . 

 

He had chosen her instead, and now lived a life in hiding, pretending to be as average as he could be (which might not be average at all, but he was giving it a good go), and Nunnally couldn’t shake off the feeling that she had to make it up to him somehow. 

 

She wheeled into the student council room slowly with the tray of tea placed carefully over her lap, Sayoko knocking at the door just once before leaving her with her friends. 

 

“Nunnally!” Shirley’s delighted exclamation was like the chiming of bells to her, and Nunnally found herself leaning toward the voice she didn’t know she missed so much. For a moment, it almost felt like there was something important she was forgetting, but the gladness of hearing Shirley cut right through the feeling. 

 

“Oh, hello, Nunnally,” Milly greeted, voice gentled in the way that she usually got around the younger girl. While Milly was relentless in her glee and antics, she slowed her enthusiasm with Nunnally, her touch and even voice so much more careful, just like everyone else. 

 

Nunnally used to resent it in the back of her head. Now, it made her smile. 

 

“I brought some tea,” Nunnally said in greeting, tilting her head and smiling in the direction of their voices. She could hear Rivalz sighing over the paperwork as well, shifting from one position to another as if he couldn’t find a comfortable pose. Nina was at the corner of the room where she usually relegated herself to whenever Suzaku was around, her rapid typing faltering a little at Nunnally’s entrance. “And sandwiches!”

 

“You’re an  _ angel _ , Nunnally,” Rivalz groaned from where he was sitting, and Nunnally huffed out an amused breath of air, bringing a hand up to her face to half hide her smile. She could hear the other student council members moving, stretching and pushing away from their chairs, each taking their time to make their way to her and her tray of food and drinks. 

 

“Here,” and now there was Suzaku’s voice, quiet and gentle in a way she hadn’t heard in— a long time. She had barely heard him approach, his footfalls so much softer than the normal person. It was heartening to know that his stride wouldn’t change in five years. There were hands at her side that lifted the tray from her lap, taking the warm weight off. “Let me get that for you.”

 

“Thank you, Suzaku,” she said with the same smile as before, following the shadows up as he moved. Most people didn’t seem to realize that despite having her eyes closed, Nunnally wasn’t completely blind when in a lit room. It was easy to follow movements so long as they were simple. 

 

“If only your brother was a little more like you,” Milly lamented dramatically, and Nunnally allowed herself a quiet laugh.  _ If only. _ The blond girl was bustling about, likely pushing aside papers to make room for the tray of food and its contents. “He’d be so much cuter.”

 

“Don’t say that, Miss President,” Rivalz grumbled. “That could be why he tries to be so mean all the time.”

 

“Where  _ is _ Lulu this time, anyway?” Shirley asked, and Nunnally could almost hear as the gazes of the student council turned first to Suzaku, who seemed to have either shrugged or given a helpless look, before they turned to Nunnally for answers. 

 

“He has business elsewhere.” Nunnally evaded easily. The first time around, she hadn’t been there for this student council meeting, a little busy sulking at Sayoko’s suggestion that maybe her brother had found a girlfriend and that’s why he was so busy. She smiled again. “It’s a surprise.”

 

That seemed to be the right thing to say, according to Milly’s excited noise. Business might have been a bit too much to say, but a surprise… well, Lelouch was known to spoil his little sister whenever he could. 

 

It was strange to think that the likeliest reason for her brother getting away with all his absences before had been because Nunnally had convinced herself to not comment about it. If she had raised a fuss, what would have happened? Certainly, the others would do their best to pry into his situation. 

 

_ “You’re powerful because you’re loved.” _

 

She had been thinking about that statement all day, and Nunnally was starting to realize just what C.C. was talking about. Little things like this, even, were ways that she could help her brother. She could cover for his absences, and provide excuses for him. Had he included her in his plans, she could have done at least this much. 

 

Now, she would have to find a way to both help and hinder him at the same time. Insert herself in his plans since he was so determined to leave her out of it. 

 

Nunnally followed the sounds of interaction, of footsteps and laughing, and smiled as they parted ways for her, until she bumped gently against the table and felt her way about to pull a small plate for herself, arranging on it half a sandwich and one of the sturdier teacups. 

 

She listened for the suspicious lack of words in one area, and directed her wheelchair in that direction. 

 

“Nina?” she asked, and heard as the typing died away entirely. “Here. You should eat something, too.”

 

Nina Einstein, the woman who would later on invent one of the most destructive weapons of war mankind had ever seen, and that included Knightmare Frames. It had taken years for Nina to warm up to Nunnally again after the war, the woman as professional as ever in every meeting but unable to stay a second longer even if all Nunnally wanted to do was ask her about her day. 

 

From what she could tell, Nina had never gotten over the guilt of her invention. The day all the FLEIJA warheads had been destroyed along with the Damocles had been a sigh of relief for everyone, but for Nina, it seemed to have taken an entire weight off her shoulders. 

 

Even then, she had been withdrawn and too dedicated to her work, refusing human attachments of any kind. 

 

Now, though, Nunnally was figuring out that perhaps she had always been that way, a little bit, even before the guilt had silenced her. Nina always had a hard time connecting to others, and while the student council tried, none of them had managed to successfully get through to her. 

 

Especially not now that Suzaku was a part of the club, and the others were actively doing their best to welcome him. 

 

The older girl (younger? It was so confusing) seem to hesitate for a moment before reaching out for the plate that Nunnally procured for her. 

 

In another lifetime, Nina had formed a strong attachment to Princess Euphemia. When Euphie died, her scientific research had taken on the tinge of revenge, meant to create a weapon that could stop all wars before it even started. What she hadn’t taken into account was the idea that her weapons would never be  _ used,  _ much less on innocent lives. 

 

In the end, Nunnally suspected that even Nina had known a little of her brother’s plans. 

 

Her attachment to the empire was obvious, and her loyalty to the royal family stronger than most people would have suspected. She could have disappeared at any time— could have taken a job elsewhere, but Nina Einstein had chosen to stay in Pendragon under Schneizel’s science division despite the carelessness her weapons had been treated with. 

 

“Thank you,” came Nina’s response, closer to a whisper than anything else, like she was afraid of disturbing anyone else or of causing a scene. A part of Nunnally sympathized with her in a manner that twisted her heart— she too had once wanted to stay small and out of the way, although their motivations hadn’t been the same. 

 

“You know,” she tried to encourage, “I think the others would be very happy if you wanted to join them.”

 

Start small. Don’t push. 

 

She could all but hear as Nina shook her head in denial, her braids hitting the side of her uniform. “No,” Nina whispered, so quiet that even Nunnally strained to hear her over the commotion caused by the others. “I’d— rather not.”

 

“Okay,” Nunnally accepted, and she had to— smile,  _ smile _ , “is it okay if I sit with you, then?”

 

There was a moment where Nina was stunned silent before the older girl stumbled over her acquiesce. Nunnally moved her wheelchair to a more comforting position, where she could still somewhat face the rest of the student council but also have a comfortable vantage facing Nina. 

 

It had been some time since she reviewed what happened in the year that Zero had originally appeared, but Nunnally had been fanatical in her research at the beginning, and the royal family had nothing if not an excellent memory. 

 

Around now, Nina would still have been shaken by the events at Lake Kawaguchi. She had been quiet to begin with, quieter even when Suzaku joined them, but it was the hostage situation that seemed to have changed her entirely. 

 

“How have you been?” Nunnally asked, folding her hands on her lap. The Nina she had known was confident, if quiet, but she also remembered the girl nearly forgotten amongst the loud personalities of the student council. Her brother, for one, had all but dismissed her as a threat. Nina was smart, a  _ genius _ , but she wouldn’t have made a blip on his radar with how timid she was. 

 

So Nunnally would take what resources she could find, in whatever allies she could find. 

 

She wondered if Nina thought it strange that she would take such an interest now. 

 

“Alright,” Nina responded quietly, still and barely picking at her sandwich. Nunnally listened for the clink of glass that might signify the older girl at least drinking some of the tea, but the sounds never came. “...You don’t need to worry about me.”

 

If Nina had never betrayed her brother’s secrets at the end, and had stayed dedicated to Euphemia, then Nunnally was willing to go out on a limb and work to form a connection with her. Luckily, Nina was not as suspicious a person as the rest of the student council, at this point still easily swayed, but with the same strict loyalty as always. 

 

She would never turn against Milly and the rest of the student council members, and more than that, by now it was likely that she would never do anything that might cause harm to Princess Euphemia, after just a single meeting. 

 

Nunnally said a silent apology to her sister even as she wondered how she could pull Euphie into something that might prove the two of them sisters. She would have to work to save Euphie— she certainly knew enough about what happened, between her memories from her brother, and both C.C. and Suzaku’s testimony, that she could avoid that entire day in general. 

 

“I know.” Nunnally told her soothingly. “You’re really strong. But I know I don’t like sitting alone, so I wanted to at least be here if you wanted some company. If not, I could leave.”

 

Nina didn’t seem to have a response to that one, and Nunnally let herself sit back in her chair and smile. 

 

She would be both her brother’s ally and enemy, depending on his plans. Eventually, she knew, she would have to tell him everything. He would forgive her anything, that much she knew even all these years later. But by the time she told him, she wanted to have a solid framework to her plan. 

 

Allies. Conspirators. People who would help her keep him safe, whether they or he knew it or not.

 

She had to be patient.  _ Smile _ . 

 

Lay down the framework. 

 


	7. Queen's Pawn Opening

 

There were a number of ways that Nunnally could have drawn Suzaku’s attention, listed alphabetically in her mind as the student council meeting went on and she smiled and did her best to draw Nina out of her shell. Milly and Shirley came by a few times to make sure they ate a bit more and make small talk, but Rivalz and Suzaku stayed away, likely for Nina’s own comfort. 

 

In the end, though, it was Suzaku who sought her out after the meeting when the others had finally left, and Nunnally was pleasantly surprised by the initiative on his part. 

 

“Do you have a minute, Nunnally?” he asked, helping her clear the the plates although Sayoko was doing most of the work, reassuring the two of them that they needn’t bother at all. 

 

“Longer than that for you, if you’d like.” She said, pleased. Then she wondered if the words might sound strange, and smiled up at him. “You’re my friend, after all.”

 

As Sayoko cleared away the tray and wiped away the crumbs, Nunnally wheeled her chair over to the main table where everyone else had been sitting, and waited patiently. She wondered if he already had questions he wanted to ask without her brother there. Maybe about him?

 

“How is she doing?” Suzaku asked instead, and Nunnally startled for a moment. 

 

_ She? _ Was he asking about Euphemia, then? How could Nunnally possibly know, if she had the timeline laid out in the way she saw it— 

 

Oh.  _ Oh _ . He was asking after Nina. Nunnally wondered why she never— was she that selfish, that she never thought Suzaku would ask after her, just because he stayed away from her? After all, Nina didn’t like talking to men when she could avoid it, and she actively seemed to fear non-Britannians: Japanese in general.

 

No one ever told Nunnally why, but that kind of fear wasn’t generally a response of the superiority that Britannia liked to teach its citizens. Of course Suzaku would be concerned. 

 

She felt a twinge of guilt that even after spending the past hour with Nina, her thoughts had just defaulted to her brother. 

 

“She says she’s doing okay.” Nunnally told him, and could hear as he shifted with his unease. She tilted her head in confusion, reaching out for his hand. Here, he didn’t deny her, and she grasped onto him eagerly. His hand was rougher than her brother’s by far, broad and strong, but young in the give of his flesh. His heartbeat was warm and strong, and he did seem genuinely concerned. “...But I think she was a lot more shaken than she lets on.”

 

At this, his hand twitched just slightly. A twinge of guilt, then. But not enough to signify that he had anything to do at all with Nina’s pain. Suzaku was just naturally empathetic like that, and Nunnally allowed herself a moment to mourn that empathy in the future. 

 

She smiled at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Suzaku. She’ll be okay. And you’re doing so great here. Everyone seems to love you.”

 

Everyone in the student council, anyway, excluding Nina. But she had her own reasons, ones that Nunnally found she didn’t want to delve too deeply into. Those secrets were meant only for Nina and whoever she deigned appropriate to share them with. 

 

The rest of the school… well. She wasn’t  _ deaf _ . More than a few students were uncomfortable or openly hostile to the idea that they had to share their school with a non-Britannian, but the school policy on bullying had been strict ever since Nunnally and her brother had first joined. 

 

They had expelled the first person to push over her wheelchair and laugh just because they could, and Nunnally knew that the school would also expel the first person who decided to pick an actual fight with Suzaku. 

 

“Ah.” He sounded relieved. “I’m— I’m glad you think so. This is a really wonderful school.”

 

He must have expected more resistance and more hate, and Nunnally’s heart went out to him because even without direct confrontations, she knew how bad other children could get in their bullying and snide remarks. 

 

“More than that,” she told him, because she suddenly realized he must not hear it enough, “ _ I’m _ glad you’re here. I’m really glad you’re back. And I know Lelouch is, too. He was so worried… when we heard your name on the news. We’ve missed you greatly.”

 

She could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve missed the both of you, too. So much.”

 

He squeezed her hand, and Nunnally wished once more that she could just force her eyes open and  _ look _ . Being blind again— having her eyes shut again like a cage, it was so frustrating, especially now that she knew she could force her way through the trauma in her head. She could do it if she  _ really _ tried, so why couldn’t she manage to force it? 

 

“Suzaku,” she said, feeling her lips tug downward despite her best intentions. She just wanted to  _ see  _ again, and felt so impatient for things to finally start going her way, for some sign that maybe she might be able to make a difference after all, or for some person that she could talk to about her plans and maybe have them listen to her and tell her where she might go wrong or improve. 

 

C.C. hadn’t seemed interested. She only asked whether Lelouch had been able to fulfill her plans, and seemed disappointed when Nunnally said that her brother was gone in the future. C.C. hesitated then, frowned, and then said that she would have to keep both her and her brother safe, then. 

 

She turned his hand within her own, holding on with both hands and feeling his confusion as her thumbs rested in the creases on his palm. 

 

“Why did you join the military?” She asked, because she hadn’t been able to understand before. She remembered when Suzaku told her not to worry, because he had been reassigned in the Engineering Corps, but apparently that meant he was a Knightmare pilot now (not that he  _ told _ her this), and that knowledge wasn’t reassuring. But it was something she never could fathom before— why he joined the Britannian military in the first place. The Suzaku she knew as a child had been bright and overly aggressive at times, but far too proud to bow his head to anyone, least of all Britannians. 

 

Maybe if she could make sense of it, she might be able to— to  _ do _ something. 

 

Just as how she was going to do something about her brother’s plans now. 

 

He didn’t answer for a while, although he never withdrew his hand, and Nunnally waited. 

 

“I guess…” he huffed in amusement, or sarcasm, “I guess I was tired of war.”

 

“So you joined the military?” She asked, dubious. 

 

“I know. It doesn’t sound— right. Why join the fighting if you’re tired of the fighting, right? I guess I wanted to prove… prove to everyone that we don’t have to fight anymore. If I can make it as an Honorary Britannian, then—” 

 

“...Were you trying to prove that to yourself?” She asked quietly. She didn’t want to interrupt, but something about his statement just rang false to her, and she didn’t think he even noticed. 

 

“Maybe.” He admitted, although it almost sounded like a question. “I want to think we can all exist together. Peacefully. No more wars.”

 

She thought of the future, of his hard eyes and the wall that he would put up between himself and everyone else, unable to accept any truth other than his own. She didn’t think Suzaku was like that now. Feeling his hand in hers now, it was like a ray of hope, like he truly believed in what he was saying and was willing to fight and bleed for that optimistic future. 

 

What could she say to that tentative hope? She knew what her brother would say. He never responded well to bouts of baseless optimism like that, and would have scoffed at that reasoning, no matter how well intentioned he may be. He would have claim it wasn’t good enough, or well thought out. What kind of plan would that kind of baseless optimism include?

 

But her brother was also just a tad of a control freak when it came to plans. That much Nunnally was free to admit, mostly because it amused rather than inconvenienced her most of the time. 

 

“How?” She asked instead, because she wanted to  _ know _ . “A single soldier wouldn’t be able to change the empire like that. And they wouldn’t let you be promoted too high, not for years and years. Not unless someone  _ else _ changes the system.”

 

Suzaku seemed to close off at the question, but Nunnally didn’t let him go. She needed to him to think about that, to answer her. 

 

“Suzaku,” she said again, “Can’t you— change things in a different way?”

 

“Why are you asking me this, Nunnally?” He whispered.

 

“Because I’m worried about you.” She shook her head. No, that wasn’t enough. “Lelouch is worried about you. We don’t have— there’s not a lot of people we can count on and trust. Only a few know who we are, and I know my brother is scared to trust more people. It’s like a miracle that you came back to us. We love you.”

 

She wanted to say even more, to try and push the point that they wouldn’t want to see him in danger, but Nunnally wondered whether she was already pushing too hard, or if she needed to repeat this to him as often as possible. While the others might need a more subtle hand, she had a feeling that Suzaku had a tendency to forget that there would be people who cared if he got hurt. 

 

“All these years past, we didn’t know if you were alright, or even still alive. I know he regretted our parting. And I know that we had no other choice, but… it feels like a second chance.” More than Suzaku might ever know. “And I want to make sure things go  _ right _ this time. Please don’t disappear on us again, Suzaku.”

 

“Nunnally…” He shifted, crouched down out of his seat to get closer to eye level with her. “I won’t. I feel the same way. I just got you guys back. I don’t want to lose you either.”

 

There was a wistfulness in his tone that wasn’t there before when talking about the military, and somehow this feels more true than his previous statements. She jumped on it. 

 

“I know my brother can be— well. He likes to act like he doesn’t care…” 

 

Suzaku huffed out a laugh. “He hasn’t changed at all, yes.”

 

Nunnally smiled. “But he really cares. A lot more than he likes to let on. He has all these plans, you know. Just in case anything happens, and we need to leave again. Or— if we’re discovered, and have to go into hiding somehow. I don’t even know how many plans he has. But I know that if something  _ does _ happen—” 

 

Here, Suzaku’s grip tightened again, as if just imagining it made him tense. 

 

“—then he’d want you know. What to do, how to find us… I trust you. And he does, too.”

 

How could she impress upon him just how much her brother cared for the both of them? The plans he had in case Nunnally would ever be put in danger, and the extent he went to as Zero to free Suzaku? She couldn’t seem to find the words that would connect everything to her satisfaction, and make him  _ understand _ . And if Nunnally couldn’t make Suzaku understand, how could she ever hope to make Lelouch understand?

 

He seemed taken aback by the information, and Nunnally pressed on, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. 

 

“I can’t do anything myself,” Nunnally said, making sure to tilt her dead downward as if looking at their hands, letting a slight frown take over. “I’m here, and he does so much to protect me… and you’re in danger as well—” 

 

“I’m not,” Suzaku was quick to reassure her. “I’m a lot safer than you think.”

 

“No one is safe in the military,” she told him, “Not even Engineering Corps. What if they send you away, if they start another war in another country? Then you’d have to go with them, and what if we never see you again?”

 

“That won’t happen, Nunnally.” It was frustrating how confident in that he sounded. 

 

“I’m so scared,” she told him, if only to to force him to understand. “I’m scared that one day, you’ll disappear. I’m scared that one day, my brother might disappear, too. And then I’ll be left on my own.”

 

It was a heavy-handed tactic, and she could tell that he was bewildered by that. There was truth in her words and her tone, though, one that couldn’t be faked.

 

“Nunnally— of course Lelouch would never disappear on you! He would never leave you.”

 

She had to swallow the bitterness.  _ But he did leave me. Don’t you know? _ Her expression must have shown, though, because Suzaku seemed even more alarmed than before. 

 

“I— where is this coming from, Nunnally? Did Lelouch say something? Is he in danger?”

 

If she didn’t answer, she knew, then Suzaku would come up with an answer on his own. If she told the truth, then she’d have to say  _ yes _ . Her brother was in constant danger now that he created the mantle of Zero. He would be beset on all sides, unscathed after each encounter only due to the brilliance and details of his plans. 

 

In truth, he may not be in danger at all, since Nunnally knew what would happen. But beyond that… the path he was currently on was not only dangerous, but ultimately ended up taking his life. 

 

But that would be too much for Suzaku, as she could feel the levels of panic just in the agitation and tension in his hand. 

 

“...No.” She said instead. “Of course not. I just— worry. Sorry. I guess I’m dumping all of this on you…”

 

She moved to let go of his hand, finally, but he held on just a little longer, kneeling before her. 

 

“What is he really up to?” He asked quietly. “It’s not like him to leave you alone for a weekend.”

 

She smiled. 

 

“It’s a surprise.” She repeated, and then released a hand to pat at the area of her wheelchair by her armrest, holding a small pouch. “And he always accepts my calls, no matter where he is or how busy. It’s just— I think he was caught up in something dangerous recently, but he won’t really tell me about it. What if something like that happens to him again?”

 

Shinjuku, Nunnally knew. It had been a real miracle that her brother escaped alive, and that was something that Suzaku would understand, according to C.C. in the future. It was much easier to pin her worries on the Shinjuku Massacre, because that was something that Suzaku had also been caught up in, so he would understand just how much danger her brother had been in. 

 

“I can’t just tell him to stay home all the time.” She said. “But with everything that’s happening… what if something just happens to him— out in the streets? Anywhere? Somewhere he thought he would be safe?”

 

She felt bad manipulating Suzaku like that, but the hard look in his eyes under Zero’s mask made her swallow the guilt. This was for Suzaku’s benefit as well, she told herself. 

 

“Who would watch over him?” She wondered out loud, playing up her tone to be little more than a whisper of concern. “I have Miss Sayoko, but…”

 

She let the conversation die there, shifting it to other topics quickly before he could think too much on that statement.

  
  


— 

  
  


Nunnally spends the weekend with Alice, catching up on schoolwork that bored her and spending more time with her best friend, whom she encouraged again and again in order to rebuild their relationship. 

 

She listens on the radio for what happened in Narita, and she plans. 

 

Jeremiah Gottwald, she knew, had been in that battle and lost. She despairs over the fact that it lists him as killed in action, and that she didn’t have the power to reach him before then. 

 

He would be okay, of course. But she didn’t know where he was, and she didn’t know how to contact him to tell him that she needed his help. She didn’t know how to comfort him with the knowledge that Empress Marianne’s children still lived.

 

It wasn’t until much later that Nunnally realized a grave error in her tunnel-visioned calculations when she hears from Milly what happened.

  
  


— 

  
  


Her brother’s return from his trip meant C.C.’s return as well, and Nunnally waited patiently at night for the woman to visit her, knowing that she would only do so in the dead of night, likely to prevent her brother from finding out about their acquaintance. 

 

She had questions still about Geass, and about the fact that she was apparently in the past. While she still wasn’t certain about whether it was truly the past or not, Nunnally was long past the idea of it being a dream after having gone to sleep and woken up here several times now. The ache in her eye faded away, but before she could set herself on a path of making irrevocable changes, there were things she needed to confirm. 

 

By the time she heard C.C. sneak into her room, Nunnally was already sitting up in bed and waiting for her. 

 

“Why won’t you tell me what your wish is?” She asked immediately, and noticed that C.C. seemed to have startled badly. 

 

“...Ahh. You do always wait for people in the dark, then.”

 

“It doesn’t make sense to turn on the lights.” Nunnally agreed pleasantly, immensely pleased at being able to catch C.C. off guard for once. “It wouldn’t help me see.”

 

Not exactly true, as it was easier for her to catch movement with light, but Nunnally was also used to the dark and the way it seemed to hinder others more than it hindered her. It seemed that even someone like C.C. was more vulnerable in the darkness.

 

“And have you figured out your power, then?” C.C. asked, completely ignoring Nunnally’s earlier question. She could hear the woman move, nearly as silently as a cat, across the room to perch near the window seat. 

 

“Not yet. Not entirely.” Nunnally allowed the question to go unanswered for now. “There were things I wanted to confirm with you first before I tried anything.”

 

C.C. gave a breathy laugh. “Not much like your brother, then.”

 

“Oh?” She asked, eager to learn more as always. She wanted to ask these questions to her brother instead of a third party, but it seemed so— odd of a topic to bring up. And she wanted her time with him untainted with thoughts of the future for now. She wanted to enjoy what time she had with him that wasn’t to do with politics or peace or even what would soon happen. It might be selfish of her, but Nunnally would cling to each second with her brother where they could just be siblings and not have to worry about anything else. “And what did he do?”

 

“Shouldn’t you be asking him that?” C.C. said, but then seemed to digress. “By the time I found him again, he experimented enough to figure out the limits and how it would help and hinder his plans.”

 

Nunnally smiled. Yes, that certainly sounded like Lelouch. 

 

“I will not be the messenger for whatever little plots you have for him,” C.C. told her, tone turning cold. “I am here only to keep the both of you alive, and I hadn’t even planned for you at first.”

 

That was fine. Nunnally didn’t need C.C. to look after her, not when she had so many others already. Even still, it was a rather odd exchange to have with the woman who had recently joked with her on simple things, teased her, and gave her excuses to leave awkward social events. 

 

“You’re very different now.” Nunnally told her, an unseen smile still hidden in the dark. “But I suppose everyone changes in six years.”

 

This seemed to catch C.C.’s attention more. 

 

“And what did I tell you about myself? Six years in the future.”

 

There was something shrewd in the words, but Nunnally didn’t think that it would help to hide anything she knew. It wasn’t as if there was any information she could use for or against C.C. 

 

“You didn’t talk about yourself,” she told her. “But you said you had a wish.”

 

“Yes,” C.C. confirmed. She paused a moment. “Perhaps you can fulfill it, then.”

 

“You didn’t think I could.” Nunnally denied. “But you were still— kind.” Yes. That was the right word for it. C.C. had no obligation to stay with her, or to answer her questions, and yet she had. “I don’t think you wanted me to have Geass. But you gave me the choice nevertheless.”

 

“I would not.” C.C.’s eyes seemed to bore into her, the same way they used to in the future. “There is no reason for us to have a contract if I didn’t think you could fulfill my wish.”

 

“You told me that I couldn’t,” Nunnally confirmed, smoothing her hands over her covers. Why did she always seem to have important conversations like this in bed? “That I wouldn’t get what I want from your power… and you wouldn’t get what you wanted from staying with me. But that the choice was mine, anyway.” She hesitated, but then pressed on. “You’re a very kind person, C.C.”

 

This seemed to stun the woman enough that she had no comeback for that, and Nunnally pressed on once again. It seemed that blunt honesty worked well in stunning people into compliance for her, which was good seeing as she would have no other weapon to work with outside of words. 

 

Unlike Suzaku, though, Nunnally didn’t think she would be able to wheedle C.C. to do what she wanted— she remembered the sharp amber eyes that stared past her, and the blank look that spoke of something otherworldly. Instead, all she could do would be to plead for C.C.’s help. 

 

“You said you wanted to keep my brother and me safe.” She said. “And— I want to keep my brother safe, too. If this isn’t a dream of some kind—” Less likely the longer that time went on, “—then I’d like to work together with you on that.”

 

“He would be displeased if you were put into danger.” C.C. dismissed.

 

“I know. But I have to, regardless.” She pressed her palms down against the mattress, feeling the springs and the give underneath her. “I can’t just sit by and do nothing. And you can’t just tell me to sit by and do nothing, either. He’s— he’s going out each time and risking his own life for something he believes in. I should be allowed to do the same.”

 

That only seemed to irritate the other woman. “I can’t protect two people at the same time.”

 

“Then you don’t have to protect me! I’m not in danger the same way he is. And I have Miss Sayoko with me. I just want to know what he’s doing. I just want to help if I can.”

 

The conversation didn’t seem to be going the way Nunnally was hoping, as C.C. seemed to be closing herself off more the more Nunnally pleaded, instead of opening up like she hoped. 

 

C.C. moved closer to her, and Nunnally found herself feeling intimidated by the woman for the first time. There was something alien about C.C.’s presence at that moment, something colder than anything she had dealt with before. The C.C. of the future hadn’t done this, hadn’t been like this. But rather than drawing away, she only raised her head defiantly. 

 

Cold or not, C.C. once told her that she would stay to the end if Nunnally accepted the Geass, and she would not forget that. 

 

“Or perhaps I should just leave,” C.C. said coolly. “If neither you nor him are fit to fulfill my wish, then you’re of no use to me. Any efforts I expend to keep you alive would be a waste on my part.”

 

Nunnally tensed her jaw at the unexpected statement. “...Maybe.”

 

She didn’t want the woman to leave, not when she knew that C.C. had been vital to her brother’s plans. But Nunnally planned on changing everything anyway, by herself or not, and she wasn’t going to let anyone else dissuade her from it. As much as she wanted C.C. there, the version standing before her was not the person she had once known, colder and darker still, and if she wasn’t going to be there…. If she wasn’t going to be there, then Nunnally would find another way. 

 

After a long, uncomfortable moment, C.C. finally pulled away, and Nunnally found herself breathing out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. 

 

“I’m not interested in your petty little schemes.” C.C. declared, although now the tone was softer than before. Whatever she had been looking for, she seemed to be satisfied. “I won’t tell him of your Geass if you intend to hide it, but neither will I tell you about his.”

 

For a moment, Nunnally felt like protesting— C.C. hadn’t infringed that rule before, not when she had been sharing about Lelouch’s thoughts and reasonings, but then thought better of it. It made sense. The first time around, the words would in no way affect Lelouch, seeing as he had been long gone. Now, though, she would have to go to her brother herself if she wanted to know his thoughts. 

 

It made sense, but she didn’t like it. 

 

(No… she  _ did _ like it. But it made her feel hesitant, to know that should she confront her brother, there was now a chance he could refuse to tell her the truth. That, she thought, might bring her more pain than she could bear.)

 

“I…” While she didn’t want to accept it, Nunnally realized she would find no real ally against her brother in C.C. The mysterious woman would not take sides for either of them, likely because she was the one who provided them both with power. She swallowed her protests down. “I understand.”

 

“Good.” The woman told her succinctly. There was the sounds of shifting clothing, and she said, “You don’t need my permission to use your power. It’s yours now to use, however you like. There’s very little I can tell you about it that you wouldn’t be able to find out for yourself.”

 

“I need to know how to turn it on and off.” Nunnally insisted. 

 

There was a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I can’t tell you that. You already know how to do it. If you’re asking, it isn’t because you can’t— it’s because you won’t.”

 

Nunnally didn’t say anything to that. 

 

“Do or don’t. It’s up to you. I suppose I can stay for a bit longer and see how this all turns out. Maybe you’ll be able to change the events you were talking about, after all.”

 

“...Did you want to know?” Nunnally asked quietly. “How it all turns out?”

 

C.C. moved toward the door, and seemed to hesitate only the slightest moment before she turned back with a sly smile that could be heard in her voice. 

 

“I don’t need to know the future. It wouldn’t change anything for me.”

  
  


— 

  
  


Nearly four months after her brother’s Zero Requiem, Cornelia found out about Jeremiah’s power to cancel Geass and demanded the man return to Pendragon during the rebuilding to do just that. He had not refused, and soon wrote back that he was on his way, although he wouldn’t stay along. 

 

It made sense, of course. Plenty of people knew he supported the Demon Emperor. Jeremiah made no attempts to hide his fanatical loyalty, only reminding people that as Nunnally was the last of Lady Marianne’s children, and Lelouch’s sister, his loyalty was now hers, and would be until the end of her days. Jeremiah Gottwald was loyal to the vi Britannia bloodline, and would serve no other. Even Cornelia’s summons had been ignored until Nunnally finally conceded to add her signature onto the letters. 

 

Nunnally agreed to Cornelia’s demands for two reasons: one because she did agree with Cornelia’s reasoning. Geass was a power that should not be used against other people, and if someone should want to rid themselves of the Geass cast upon them by her brother, then they should be free to do so. The second reason was far more selfish: she really did want to know Jeremiah, the man who served her mother, who endlessly tried to avenge her death for years, and whom had both fought against and for her brother. 

 

“It’s vexing,” Cornelia said with a deep frown when Nunnally asked, and the younger girl thought her half-sister might have meant  _ frightening _ instead, except Cornelia was not the type to admit to anything like fear or even the possibility of it. “Knowing that I’m under a command— that I could be following his orders even now…”

 

They were sitting in the tea room for one of the smaller villas at the edge of Pendragon, one that hadn’t been destroyed by the FLEIJA thanks to it being so insignificant to the Emperor. Sadly, the family it once housed was gone as well, having been in the middle of the capitol as the royal family was wont to do when the bomb was dropped. 

 

(Nunnally would never be able to forgive herself of that horror.)

 

It was close enough to all the rebuilding in the capital and the loyal guards to still be close enough for comfort, but far enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed by the sounds of construction going on. 

 

“You should get that man to rid the world of all traces of Geass.” Cornelia was saying, anger coloring her tone as she gestured sharply around her. “Start new, without that _ taint  _ about us.”

 

Nunnally was quieter then, too tired to argue and too angry to stay silent. Too freshly broken then, still. “You can rid yourself of it, sister. But I will keep mine.”

 

A part of her had been furious, even then, at the fact that Lelouch had  _ dared _ to use his Geass against her. Another part of her despaired and wailed at the idea of the Geass being taken from her, because at the end of the day, it was one of the few things she had left of him. Her life hadn’t been altered by it for long, since she knew the command he had given her. 

 

She knew he hadn’t changed her entire perspective; she loved him because she chose to, and grieved because she chose to. All he had done was order her to hand over the key of Damocles. The order given to her couldn’t have lasted long, and it was an intangible thing that she would never be able to hold onto, but… 

 

His plans hinged on the Geass. On his orders. She already knew that Jeremiah would refuse to dispel all of her brother’s Geass orders, no matter what Cornelia might threaten him with. 

 

She only recently found out that there was nothing left of herself at Ashford Academy— that no one remembered her, and nothing that might hint at the life she had with her brother growing up. 

 

All those things she had once so carefully prepared, for the day when she would be able to see again— all the pictures, the memories, letters, and keepsakes carefully pressed into hiding spaces… they were all gone. In her place had been someone else: a boy she didn’t know, with eyes nearly as violet as her brother’s, who smiled in photos she should have been in and laughed in memories her friends once had of her. 

 

She was so angry all the time, and she didn’t know what to do with that anger anymore. 

 

“Keep it?” Cornelia looked incredulous, defensive, the frown on her face distorting her features and her eyes cold. “Don’t be ridiculous, Nunnally. Who knows what he tried to change about you. We finally have the chance to be free of this—” 

 

“I know what he did.” Nunnally snapped back, hands in fists as she leaned forward in her wheelchair. “I am well aware. But his orders are both sinister, and not as sinister, as you might imagine.”

 

She slumped back after the statement, barely able to hold herself up. If not for the maids and other attendants, she was sure she would look less than presentable. Nunnally had not cared about what they dressed her in for months, and had not cared when they pressed concealer under her eyes and blush to simulate warmth in her cheeks. 

 

She didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It didn’t matter, anyway. Cornelia never liked to hear Nunnally wax poetic about what could have been, or the few happy memories she had, all shared with her brother. 

 

All Cornelia wanted, she knew, was to forget the horrible events of the past, but it was a thing that she couldn’t do, couldn’t allow herself to do, so long as Euphie’s death hung unsolved. 

 

How could Nunnally communicate to her that the feeling was the same for her? That she wanted to let go, but couldn’t? But while Cornelia’s warm memories of Euphemia were welcome with her and Schneizel and all the others who knew of the wonderful, beautiful princess Euphie had been… No one wanted to listen to Nunnally’s memories of Lelouch. 

 

They wanted the Demon Emperor. 

 

_ Is this what you wanted? _ Nunnally despaired.  _ To become that symbol of hate? _

 

Her brother’s plans never failed. He planned to unite a broken, fractured world… and he had. But while people resisted coming together for the sake of others, they were united in their hate for him. The whole world celebrated his death. The whole world shook hands and congratulated themselves for surviving his reign of terror. 

 

Everyone but Nunnally, who now sat atop the cold throne he left her, unable to speak what she wanted for fear of breaking the peace he sold his life for. 

 

She wished she could scream at him— about how much she  _ hated _ him for what he did! For the atrocities he committed, for leaving his family behind, for creating this plan and never once letting her know about it. She wished nothing more than to be able to demand answers from him, to scream at him and yell and throw whatever she could lift at his direction. 

 

She wanted to cry, more tears than she had managed to shed already, and beg his forgiveness and convince him somehow that she loved him. She loved him, she  _ loved him, _ and it was unfair of him to have left her behind like that! It was cruel of him, the cruelest of all, to throw his life away like that as if there was no one left on the earth that could mourn him. Like she wouldn’t be left behind, alone with the truth ringing in her head at all hours, and forced to endure the lies spread in his wake. 

 

Suzaku wouldn’t talk to her. Zero was silent near her, answering only when asked, and the picture perfect guardian and knight. It didn’t even seem to matter to most that the Zero before her brother’s death never had a posture that straight and perfect, or that the current Zero had a slight accent, barely noticeable. 

 

She looked at the new Zero, the man who killed her brother, and couldn’t bring herself to care anymore. Sometimes, she felt like she couldn’t bring herself to care for… anything, anymore. 

 

Cornelia, on the other hand, grew more and more agitated when forced with the thought of Euphemia’s death. While normally calm and reasonable, the more time she was forced to spend in Pendragon, the more frenetic she seemed to become. Not overwrought in her decisions, but that all she could blame was Lelouch for her miseries. 

 

Maybe in that way, Zero Requiem was working even better than her brother could have expected. Rather than blaming new people, most were reconciling and patting themselves on the back because no matter what they did, they would never be as bad as the Demon Emperor. Like a soldier that could claim to be following orders, the individual would be forgiven for their temporary madness so long as they repented. 

 

“You’ll feel better, Nunnally.” Cornelia was insisting now, the anger drained from her voice because she was still a big sister, was still in charge of one younger sibling, and none of it was Nunnally’s fault. “Closure. You deserve at least that much.”

 

Just a few weeks ago, Nunnally might have broken into tears at the tone, torn between wanting the comfort and between needing to push it away. Now, she just accepted as Cornelia reached over to tenderly push a strand of hair behind her ear. 

 

“I agreed to this because you need answers.” Nunnally told her, her heart numb even to the gesture of sisterly love. “I understand that. But don’t ask me to do this before I’m ready, Cornelia. Please.”

 

It was such a strange, little thing. She wanted to be able to keep that anger in her heart, even if it hurt her, because it was a part of her that still felt so strongly about her brother, and a part that was only hers as opposed to belonging to the rest of the world. 

 

So little now belonged only to her. 

 

“Must you mourn him for so long?” Cornelia asked, and it was only the genuine curiosity in her voice that stopped Nunnally from lashing out. “He wasn’t the brother you remembered.”

 

_ Why do you still mourn Euphemia so strongly after so long, then? _

 

But she didn’t say that. It wouldn’t do to lash out just to inflict more hurt. 

 

“You know that’s not true.” She said instead, and looked away from Cornelia as a guard at the door looked away to receive information from someone outside the room. “You just don’t want to see it.”

 

It made her want to scream, but she couldn’t deny Cornelia this relief. 

 

It was what Lelouch wanted, after all. 

 

Jeremiah’s arrival came soon with a herald of suspicious whispers as the man strode down the halls of Pendragon with his head held high, proud and refusing to be cowed by the way people would scramble out of his way or outright cower in fear. 

 

Cowards, Nunnally thought when she saw the display, and wondered if he thought the same. Those nobles were obviously playing up the terror they felt, as if they had actually been hurt during the brief time her brother had been in charge. 

 

None of them had been hurt. They were still here, after all. 

 

She received him before the much smaller throne that had been commissioned for her, not so much a seat as an area that was fitted specifically for her wheelchair, with Zero there to stand at her right hand should she need it, and Schneizel and Cornelia at her left. 

 

Despite her protests, there were dozens of people at court who had come before her for Jeremiah’s arrival, also hoping to cure themselves of the power that the Demon Emperor had cast on them. 

 

They were all idiots. If her brother had commanded something of them, then they certainly wouldn’t have the willpower to come and ask for it’s removal. She could see her royal guard stationed in the shadows of the room, even, eyes ever vigilant, and definitely under her late brother’s commands. 

 

They would not ask for the removal of his Geass. They would not be able to. 

 

“We welcome you, Sir Gottwald,” she told him as he approached her and fell into a perfect knightly kneel, one hand on his heart, and the other steadying himself on the ground as he bowed his head. She could see the distaste on the faces of the people behind him as she addressed him by that title. She would not strip him of the rank, no matter how much they protested. “Thank you for coming all this way.”

 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Gottwald demurred, expression blank except for the small, fond smile that appeared when he dared to look up at her. “I will always answer your call.”

 

“You have earned your peace from this court,” she said, reciting lines that Schneizel had written out for her in advance, with different options to what approach she wanted to take.  _ Be authoritative, _ he insisted, because she was still new to the title of Empress, and despite being able to approach the people with the kind demeanor she always displayed, the people would now be nervous at the sight of Jeremiah.  _ Ensure them that you are in control, and they will not give to their fear _ . “But I’m afraid we are in need of your services once more.”

 

“I live to serve.” Jeremiah said, the perfect picture of loyalty. He had been her brother’s Knight of Honor once the Knight of Zero passed, and his mannerisms were textbook perfect for his rank and status. 

 

“My sister,” Nunnally said, although she did not look toward Cornelia as she said this, “has expressed a desire to utilize a certain ability you are rumored to possess. She has brought the matter to me for my sanction, and in turn, I have summoned you here.”

 

They were heavy words for a fifteen year old girl, like the crown that she would not wear, and Nunnally tightened her grip on the armrests of her chair. She knew what Cornelia wanted her to do— to draw attention the what might have been a special power that the Demon Emperor possessed, one that was said to bring even the closest of families to clash. A power that might force the loyalty of people, or order them to do things they would normally never do. 

 

She wanted to expunge Euphemia’s actions by blaming the Demon Emperor. Lelouch would have approved.

 

_ But _ , Nunnally thought darkly,  _ he doesn’t get a say now. _

 

Besides, it was Zero who killed Euphemia, and she couldn’t begin to imagine how heavy that burden must be for Suzaku, who had been so fervent about getting vengeance for her, to now be the one wearing the mask of her killer. How could anyone know that it was Lelouch under the mask who had spoken to Euphemia before her massacre? Cornelia was reaching, and it was a reach that could bring down the tentative peace. 

 

She wasn’t going to expose anything about Geass. 

 

“You will accompany her and hear out her request,” Nunnally commanded. “And should you hold the power to assist her, then you are free to do so.”

 

_ Free to do so _ , because she wouldn’t force Jeremiah to use his power against his will. No matter how much Cornelia might gain from this, it was still something that only Jeremiah could do, and only something he could help them with. They could not force him to do anything. 

 

She gestured to a side with a hand, and one of the royal guards, expression blank as ever, moved from where he was standing, drawing the attention of the court as he stepped aside to gesture to the hall besides him.

 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Jeremiah agreed readily, as he if wasn’t being glared down by dozens of eyes on his person. The metal of his mask gleamed in the dim court lighting. “It would be my honor.”

 

Nunnally didn’t look to see the half glare that she was sure Cornelia was throwing as discreetly as possible in her direction. She was used to knowing the moods of the people around her without having to look, and was only now learning how to school her own expressions to prevent people from reading her just as easily. 

 

She nodded, and Zero broke away from his usual place behind her to guide Jeremiah and Cornelia to a more private room, even as the court groused at not being privy to whatever it was that brought the disgraced knight back to court. 

 

“Bring in the next petitioner,” She told Schneizel, who nodded and gave her an enigmatic smile, as if a little proud. She wouldn’t go find Jeremiah and Cornelia until court was over, and that would keep the nobles who had come to see the spectacle busy for a while longer. 

 

And then, she thought, she would like to see for herself what Jeremiah could do… and the expression on Cornelia’s face when she realized all the hatred and grief she felt was entirely her own. 

  
  


— 

  
  


It was almost surprising to Nunnally how much she dreaded mornings now, as much as she anticipated it. How much she was willing to plot and scheme and speak with other people, but felt reluctant to ask her brother the important questions. All she wanted was his presence, to know that he was there and that everything was still okay. She didn’t want to talk about his plans or her own, although she could feel C.C.’s cool disapproval. 

 

It was an irrational fear— that if she said anything about it out loud, then it would really turn out to be a dream, like a pin to a balloon. Instead, she focused on what little she knew of her own timeline, and tried to forget C.C.’s observation about how she didn’t want to let go of the Geass power, not even for a moment in case she never managed to come back here. 

 

If this wasn’t a dream, and she was somehow in the past… what was happening in her present? Had she been hurt? In a coma, maybe? Or had the moment just never passed, like a freeze-frame to a movie?

 

She hadn’t meant to think upon that for too long, especially since she had other things to ponder— for instance, her brother’s concern for her now— different than before, when he had left on the Thursday evening and told her in advance that he would be gone for three days, calling once a day for a warm conversation with her to assure her that he was alright. 

 

This time, he left late Friday afternoon, calling several times a day— when she woke, and before she slept, for sure, and sometimes during the middle of the day as well to check up on her. He was worried, she knew, about what results the doctors might uncover for her, and Nunnally found herself both fond and exasperated over his hovering. 

 

With those thoughts in mind, Nunnally had gone to sleep after her conversation with C.C. and wondered what ripples she might have made just with her little actions alone.

 

_ What else can I do? _ She didn’t know yet, but time would tell. 

 

It felt like she only just settled into sleep before she was awake once more, feeling tired and groggy. 

 

High ceilings. Clean white walls. There was a window to her left, strange mostly because she was so used to rooms where her bed ensured that the morning sun would come in through the window to her right. 

 

Nunnally tilted her head to the side, blinking her eyes slowly as she took in the bright sunshine trying to find its way through hazy white curtains. There were machines besides her, although they were silent and sleek in a futuristic manner. Thin blankets, white as well, and a slight pressure on her left index finger that drew her attention down to see something white attached to it. 

 

She blinked several times at it in a daze before there was a clatter that drew her attention, and she looked up to see— pink? Purple? Ahh. Yes. Magenta. That was a familiar color. 

 

There was a swift movement in that color that she couldn’t seem to follow, where it went to the door and then seemed to shout something, before coming back again. 

 

“Nunnally?” The voice was gentle, barely above a whisper, and she shook her head slightly to clear the cotton in her thoughts. A warm hand held her own, and she recognized it. 

 

“...Nellie?”

 

Those familiar eyes were soft, half covered by magenta colored hair as her older half-sister breathed a sigh of relief, looking insurmountably relieved. “...Yes. It’s me.”

 

She would have said something else, but was quickly interrupted by several doctors in white coats who rushed into the room, and Nunnally found herself bewildered as they checked the machines and asked her various questions that ranged from her own name to reciting several sections of the multiplication table and the names of several world leaders. 

 

“Do you remember what happened, Your Majesty?” One of them finally asked, and Nunnally’s felt awareness snap back. 

 

Her dream! She had been— in the past? 

 

She could feel her heart sinking as she realized that dream was  _ gone _ . She wasn’t at Ashford Academy anymore, waiting for Sayoko to wake her in the mornings and her brother to come brush her hair. She wasn’t a student with little worries for the future other than where it might take her. 

 

She was in…. Well, she didn’t know exactly where she was, but it certainly wasn’t anywhere familiar to her. With that realization, she couldn’t help but give a broken sound of distress. 

 

Had it all been a dream? Were all her plans…?

 

“I…” she wet her lips, her mouth feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton. Right. The doctors were still waiting for her answer, looking more alarmed at her expression. “There… there was a girl. I was in France. Am?”

 

“No worries, Your Majesty,” the doctor soothed, checking the machines again. “That girl never made it to you. Zero took care of her right away. You, however, collapsed then.”

 

She furrowed her brows in confusion. “So… I’m not injured?”

 

She didn’t feel injured, but then again, the grogginess could have been attributed to drugs she imagined were in her system to fight off pain. She still wasn’t sure what was going on. 

 

“No,” this time, it was Cornelia who responded, having elbowed her way past the doctors to reach Nunnally again. They didn’t look impressed, but it was hard to refuse one of the last remaining members of the royal family. “You weren’t injured. But you were out for the last two days. Schneizel has taken over your duties for the moment, and…”

 

Two days? She opened her mouth to respond, and then snapped her jaw shut as her mind tried to catch up with her. 

 

Her dream had lasted longer than that, though. Not that much longer, but…

 

“I was dreaming.” She admitted numbly. “Back when I was… in school…” 

 

She wanted to cry. Why had she waited to talk to her brother more? Nunnally thought the dream was real, and that she would be able to stay in the past, in her dreams, and so she would have all the time in the world in order to talk to him again. Not just to reassure herself that he was there, but to clarify… 

 

The dawning chasm inside her felt sharper than ever now, as if the brief time when she hadn’t felt so empty had only made it deeper by contrast. 

 

(Was this what Cornelia felt, all the time?)

 

Her half-sister softened visibly, tension draining from her shoulders. “Oh, Nunnally…” 

 

She turned away, looking at the suspiciously blurry machines on the other side as the doctors hovered and took her blood pressure. 

 

For a while, she had genuinely allowed herself to believe that she somehow had a power that could allow her to go back and change things. Travel back in time. It was ridiculous, now that she thought about it, but there was a part of her that still wanted to believe. 

 

In a world where there were superpowers that allowed people to control others or stop time, granted by immortals, would that really be so strange? 

 

“How is she?” She could heard Cornelia ask the doctors quietly. She didn’t care to look at the blur of lines that were people bustling about the room, instead focusing on first the machines, and then on the lights outside her window. 

 

“There’s nothing wrong. We’d like to do a few more tests, but she should be fine now that she’s woken up.”

 

“I’m fine,” Nunnally confirmed, even if she didn’t feel fine in the slightest. But she stared wide-eyed at the window and willed the traitorous tears away. “I’d like to know what happened. Please send in Zero and Schneizel to debrief me when they’re available.”

 

She pushed herself up on shaky arms, dragging her unresponsive legs with her as she leaned against the headboard and the doctors protested the movement. Cornelia looked resigned, already knowing that Nunnally was going to throw herself in work to forget the dream she had. 

 

Or maybe she couldn’t say anything because she would have done the same. 

 

She waited until the doctors were satisfied with her progress, until people brought a wheelchair to her room (along with a box containing the frame that Asplund built for her legs, although no one could quite figure out where all the pieces were supposed to fit), although they told her to stay in bed, just in case. 

 

“I can stay,” Cornelia told her, softer than she heard in awhile. Her sister sat with her in one of the hard hospital chairs that were usually provided— abundant but uncomfortable. 

 

Nunnally took a long moment to draw her thoughts back to the present, and tried (maybe failed) to smile at her older half-sister. 

 

“Thank you,” she said, because years of experience taught her that people liked to know they helped somehow, even if they didn’t really help at all. It was easier to accept company than to turn it away, knowing that they would worry nevertheless. “Just until the others get here, then. I know you don’t like to be caught in political affairs nowadays.”

 

Cornelia’s eyes were soft as she reached up a hand to caress Nunnally’s cheek for just a moment before her arm fell back to her side. Nunnally didn’t react to it— the both of them already knew that she didn’t appreciate touches like that anymore, although she would tolerate them. 

 

“I would throw myself at it,” the older woman said, softly, “if it meant keeping you safe. You’re the only sister I have left.”

 

Nunnally wondered if it would be different, if she hadn’t given the order that dropped the FREIJA on Pendragon, killing countless of their siblings. Schneizel might have been the one who lied to her there, but she had been the one to ultimately agree to his plans. 

 

It seemed pointless to say that she wasn’t in any danger, not now after the attempted assassination. It was also pointless to point out that Schneizel might now be the only brother they had left, but it wasn’t as if Cornelia trusted him anymore. 

 

“Sister,” Nunnally said instead, her thoughts unable to calm. Her fingers were twisted up in the thin blankets atop her legs, unable to let go. “If… back then, when you first got to Japan. If you had found us back then, before everything happened… what would you have done?”

 

The dream felt  _ so real _ . 

 

Cornelia paused, and Nunnally could almost see what her sister wanted to ask:  _ what brought this on? _ “...Your dream?”

 

“Yes.” It would be useless to deny it. She glanced out the window again, but could see only sky, not any buildings that might tell her where she was. Either the building she was in was very high, much higher than the other buildings around, or she was in a ship, air or water. 

 

She didn’t put it past her siblings to covet her away because of what happened. She even stopped feeling irritated about them treating her like a child when she wasn’t one anymore. 

 

Cornelia must have been sick of talking about the past like this, or at least the past not focusing on Euphemia. But Nunnally couldn’t help bringing it up, couldn’t help longing for something that she could never have. 

 

“If I had found you at the beginning,” Cornelia mused. She didn’t look very happy about it, but indulged Nunnally anyway, smiling tiredly, “I think it would have been one of the happiest days of my life.”

 

“Even after Clovis?” Nunnally pressed. He had been another brother she barely thought about, because the royal family was so very large and she had been so young when they were exiled. She supposed she had been horrified in a distant way, a polite way, when he had been announced dead. More than grief, she was worried about what might happen to Japan, and what might happen to her and her brother. 

 

When the news claimed Clovis dead, Nunnally felt a spike of fear at the idea that maybe there was someone out there gunning for the royal family, and what if they found out about her and Lelouch?

 

And then they claimed that Suzaku had done it, and all her worries shifted sideways.

 

To be honest, even Schneizel had been only at the very edge of her mind when it came to the royal family. She didn’t concern herself with the rest of her siblings, not when she didn’t have to, and not when a good amount of them had been mean to them due to their mother’s blood. Her fond memories, what little of them there were from that age, had been of her brother and Euphemia… and Cornelia, to some extent, because the Third Princess had stationed herself at the Aries Imperial Villa as her mother’s guard, and therefore had plenty of time to look after Empress Marianne’s children. 

 

It was also the reason why Euphemia had come around so often, and how they grew up together. 

 

If not for that, Nunnally might not even have had those fond memories of Euphie. 

 

Her sister slumped down. 

 

“...Even after Clovis,” she admitted, although not without strain. “I— I suppose we all have our favorite siblings. Clovis shouldn’t have died, but… if I had to choose, I would have chosen you.”

 

Five years ago, Cornelia would have never made that admission, and definitely not for someone not Euphemia. The entire empire had known back then who her favorite was, and there wasn’t a need to question it. 

 

Nunnally turned to look at her sister, studying her. 

 

“I wish that happened.” She admitted. It never would have, because she had been so scared of being found by the royal family back then, just as her brother had been. 

 

There was a knock at the door at that moment, drawing both their attentions as the watched Zero, in full regalia, stand at the doorway. He didn’t say anything, as per usual, but Cornelia sighed anyway. 

 

“I suppose I’ll leave you to it, then,” she said, but then pursed her lips. “If you need help at all, I’ll be right there.”

 

“I know.” Nunnally told her, and this time her smile was a little less forced. “Thank you, sister.”

 

Cornelia pressed a light kiss at her hairline, and then got up to leave, giving Zero a hard glare as she passed him and closed the door behind her. 

 

Nunnally waited a moment while she heard her sister’s footfalls past the door, and when she couldn’t hear anymore, she sighed, shoulders slumping visibly before tilting her head to look up at Zero through bangs that felt a little too oily and matted. 

 

Well. If she had been out for three days, that would make sense. 

 

“How’s the girl?” She asked, because she doubted that anyone else would ask about her. She could remember desperate and guilty blue eyes, and she hoped that the girl wasn’t harmed due to what she tried to do. Of course, she would never get off without any consequence, not when Schneizel had been the one in charge for the last three days and not with Britannia’s past policies. 

 

Before her, any attempt on the life of the ruler would have been rewarded with a long and painful death. 

 

Now, she just hoped that Schneizel just— locked her up, maybe. Not a jail. Maybe just in holding. She didn’t blame the girl, not when she had seen the crazed guilt in her eyes. 

 

“Alive. Unharmed.” Zero confirmed, and Nunnally nodded with relief. “Schneizel interrogated her. As there were no premeditated plans, or associates, he merely confined her until you could judge her fate for yourself.”

 

“That’s a relief.” She said. “And— her family?”

 

“Her name is Adelise Beaulieu, third daughter of Louise Comtois, half-sister to the current Duke of Anjou. From the records, she lost a nursemaid during your brother’s reign, although her family claims this is the first time she expressed any regard on that matter. They expressed shock at her attack, and have cooperated with us in the investigation. Should she be returned to them, Mrs. Comtois has a line of psychologists and therapists for her daughter.”

 

“That’s good.” Better than what she could have hoped for, even, although that story didn’t match up to what Nunnally had been told. She remembered how the girl’s tone fell flat when explaining that her mother had been in Pendragon at the time the FREYJA dropped. Either something wasn’t right there, or someone was covering up the tracks. “I’d like to talk to her.”

 

Zero dipped his head. “That will be arranged, Your Majesty.”

 

“Where is Schneizel?” She asked, now looking toward the door again. She expected the both of them to arrive together, as was wont the habit when she asked for the two of them. 

 

Zero hesitated for just a moment before he said, “He is preoccupied. C.C. has been… making trouble for him.”

 

Nunnally blinked in surprise. “...What? Why?”

 

“He does not want her near you.” Zero confessed. “And attempted to detain her.”   
  


“I told him that she’s my  _ guest _ ,” Nunnally said, and already the familiar surge of irritation told her that yes, she really was in the present after all, and not lost to a dream of nostalgia. It seemed that she never could see eye-to-eye with her remaining brother, despite his best intentions and her attempts to understand him. Both him and Cornelia had a habit deciding what was best for her rather than letting her make the decision, and while Cornelia had learned to back off as Nunnally grew, Schneizel never could understand that their methods were far too different and Nunnally didn’t want him input in every area of her life. “If that’s the case, I wish her all the luck in her troublemaking.”

 

Zero seemed to consider something before saying reluctantly, “She has a message to pass to you.”

 

“Oh?”

 

He seemed to consider how to put it into words for a long moment before he slumped slightly, so very unlike the perfect figure of Zero that Nunnally was taken aback.

 

“She wanted to talk to you,” he said, and this time the enunciation wasn’t perfect, just as his posture was slouched. He raised a hand as if to rub at his face, but that was blocked by the mask he was wearing. It was just a tiny thing, would have been unnoticed if Zero held himself to the standards of other people, who moved with reluctance or slumped when they got tired; but he had never done so before. The figure of Zero was always alert, always on guard, and always a hundred percent at all times to the point where he seemed more machine than human. 

 

He drew back his hand as if realizing his mistake, and straightened up once more. Nunnally wondered if he allowed himself even that much because she had already seen under his mask. 

 

“About your Geass,” he said, tone as blank as ever, although she could feel the disapproval lacing every word. “And how you activated it when Adelise Beaulieu came at you.”

 

She inhaled sharply, and turned her gaze to him, now fully focused on his words. 

 

“She thinks that’s why you’ve been asleep for so long, because she felt you activate it. And then it was gone.”

 

“Then,” she prompted, “I’ve had my Geass active the entire time?”

 

“No.” And here, he looked rather irritated. “She said she felt it for a second, and then she felt it when you woke up. That’s how I got here so quickly.”

 

It was true that she hadn’t expected his arrival so soon after she sent the doctors away, but she just figured… he was around the vicinity. 

 

“Her assumption when you wouldn’t wake, was that you might have thrown your consciousness at Miss Beaulieu, sensing the danger. Thus, we convinced Schneizel to— be lenient.”

 

Nunnally’s brow furrowed in confusion, but she didn’t interrupt.

 

“When C.C. couldn’t feel you even when she went to see the girl, she realized that couldn’t be it.”

 

“No,” Nunnally confirmed, drawing the word out to think about it. “I don’t ever remember anything as Miss Beaulieu. I just— had a dream.”

 

“She wanted to come talk to you about your power,” and here Zero’s irritation seemed to grow just enough to be visible physically in the twitch of his fingers and the stiffness of his posture. “I, too, would have appreciated some warning before all of this.”

 

“I didn’t think you’d want to hear about the Geass.” Nunnally told him quietly with a guilty wince, even as she shrunk down into her bed a little. “I meant to tell you, though. I just— wanted to know what it  _ was _ . I made the contract with C.C. but it didn’t manifest, and we thought it could be something— subtle. Or it could be that I couldn’t manifest one at all.”

 

“That.” Zero confirmed with a nod. “Also: your choice in wardrobe.”

 

Ahh. The dress fiasco. 

 

She wanted to sigh again. “...It was just a dress.”

 

“One that might have been the tipping point that influenced a girl to try and kill you.” Zero’s words were firm and unrelenting. “I have no authority over what you wear, but I would appreciate forewarning when you are putting yourself in danger.”

 

“Yes.” Nunnally agreed sullenly. She didn’t want to mention that it likely wasn’t the dress at all, but instead her own actions that brought about the assassination attempt. “I apologize for that, Zero.”

 

He seemed to stare down at her for a long moment, as if judging her sincerity, and Nunnally frowned to herself, unable to raise her gaze to meet his in her guilt. Why shouldn’t she be allowed to wear what she wanted, in honor of her brother? It wasn’t as if her dress was an exact reflection of his, and she maybe she just liked the color scheme and style. 

 

Eventually, he shifted, and the movement of his cloak drew her attention. 

 

“I… have lost enough people I have been responsible for. Please do not add yourself to that number, Your Majesty.”

 

_ Euphemia. Lelouch. _

 

A distant part of her felt a vicious anger at the words, at the memory of her siblings being used against her,  _ her _ , of all people—! But the majority of her brain despaired along with him. 

 

“I’ll do my best not to,” she promised him in a toneless whisper.

 

“I suppose that is all I can ask.” He agreed, and then shifted awkwardly, as if clearing his throat, but without the sounds. “Since C.C. could not make it here, she has asked me to inquire about your experience with the power she gave you.”

 

Geass. Now that she thought about it, her eye  _ had _ felt irritated at the beginning of the dream. She wondered about that, but dismissed it soon enough due to the actions of C.C. in her dream. 

 

“I—” how could she describe it? Had that dream been a part of her power? She couldn’t think of anything else. She had gone from the ballroom, straight to what she imagined to be a dream of the past. “I dreamt of… before.”

 

“A dream?” He asked.

 

She nodded. “Back at school. Before everything went— before it all collapsed. Everyone was there, and it felt like I had just… stepped back in time. Does that make sense? I know it sounds crazy, but…” she wrung her hands, entwining her fingers together nervously, “for a while, I honestly thought that I managed to— go back in time?”

 

At that, she gave a nervous laugh. “I know it sounds mad. But it felt so real, and I thought— maybe I had a second chance. But then I woke up here, and… I was so sure it was just a dream. But that’s the only thing that happened to me— that I can remember, anyway.”

 

He was quiet as he digested that idea. “...A… time travel Geass?”

 

“It doesn’t seem right, does it?” She told him. “C.C. warned me about how it might manifest, and the different ways… but it always affected people, and not things or concepts. And she remains unaffected.”

 

Wait. 

 

She looked up. “She said that, too. In the dream. That she’d be unaffected.”

 

“In the dream?”

 

“Yes.” She nodded, and then with a burst of inspiration, reached over to pull the wheelchair closer to her, dislodging the box of parts that was what remained of the frame made to help her walk. They must have dismantled it quickly to get to her, and she didn’t want to bother putting it all together, not since she was sure that Earl Asplund would be quite upset if she didn’t put things together to his exact specifications. 

 

It didn’t matter, anyway. She had years of experience with a wheelchair, and while the freedom of walking with her own two legs was incomparable, she knew how to move around faster than most people would give her credit for when she needed to even without the use of her legs. 

 

“If she’s making trouble for Schneizel, and he’s keeping her away from me,” she said, as she shuffled her way to the edge of the bed, putting a hand up to stop Zero when he moved to help her. She didn’t need his help, not with this. Three days in bed made it so that her limbs were shaky with just the idea of carrying her own weight, but it didn’t stop her as she positioned her wheelchair and then in one heave lifted herself off the bed and onto the chair. Once she was settled in, she bent down to the sides to release the breaks, and rested her hands against the wheel handles. 

 

It wasn’t her wheelchair, especially designed to allow her to navigate faster, but rather just a common hospital issue one made of a hollow metal frame and rough fabrics, but it would do for now. 

 

She gripped at the handles on the wheels, and then pushed forward, gauging just how much pressure required to move at a certain pace before nodding to herself. 

 

“Then,” she said, as she made her way around the bed and toward where Zero was standing. He made a gesture to convey his offer to push her, but Nunnally didn’t want that right now. She wanted to get there on her own power, and prove herself somehow. She didn’t want someone helping her at this moment, not when she could do it herself. He backed up at the look on her face, and she smiled in appreciation. “We’ll just have to go to her, won’t we?”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I write flashbacks when I start staring blankly at the screen for too long, so things aren't always linear although I try to keep it that way. Next chapter is shorter mostly because this chapter and the next one was kind of one... long... thing, and the way it broke apart made this one super long and the next one shorter. Things are starting to get wibbly-wobbly!


	8. Intermission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the first scene in this chapter at ungodly hours of the morning, encouraged by people in other time zones whose hour was not at dire as mine. I remember it was the first scene that choked me up, and the first one in this story that I was happy with. In fact, it became the 'snippet' I put up on the NaNo website. 
> 
> And-- gosh, I want to thank everyone for the reviews and encouragement. I'm really horrible when it comes to responding, especially since I tend to gush over everything when I get the alerts on my phone, and want to sit at my computer to properly respond... but when I finally get to my computer, I just end up glaring at the outline of this story, lol.

It hadn’t taken long for the petitioners to go on their way, especially since the majority of them had requests that could not be solved by her, but by those around her. Schneizel took care of most of the things that required a more logical stance, while Nunnally only spoke up when the cases presented to her needed a… gentler touch.

 

As such, it didn’t take long to retire to the quarters where she had assigned Cornelia and Jeremiah, hoping that they might actually talk things out instead of— 

 

This. 

 

The moment Zero opened the door for her, she could hear the angry shouts and near incoherent words from both sides. The two of them were standing on opposite sides of the room, putting all the tables and couches between them as they yelled, Cornelia’s words accusing and accompanied by the wide sweeping gestures that Nunnally noticed so common within the royal family. Jeremiah, on the other hand, stood stiff and gripped at the couch he was standing behind, and while there was less venom in his voice, he had his own diatribe to drown out all of Cornelia’s accusations, not letting up even to take a breath. 

 

She found herself bewildered for a moment before a surge of irritation overcame her and she pushed at the joystick of her wheelchair to make her way to the center of the room and get their attentions, leaving Zero to ensure that the following conversation wouldn’t be heard by others. 

 

“What in the world is going on?” She demanded, already knowing the answer but needing to get their attention anyway. Nunnally huffed as the two barely spared a glance in her direction, neither willing to give up on pushing their point of view at each other. “You are both members of the Imperial Court— act like it!”

 

On second thought, it might not have been the best demand to make, as it only made Cornelia huff up even more, a hand to her chest as she exclaimed, “And as Imperial Princess, this— this  _ traitor _ needs to listen to reason—” 

 

“I have betrayed no one!” Jeremiah didn’t quite shout the words, although the vibrato of his voice boomed through the room. “I swore my loyalty to the vi Britannia bloodline, and I am the one who has never wavered, while you— captain of Lady Marianne’s guard—” 

 

“Don’t you  _ dare _ bring that up to me now,” Cornelia seethed, looking ready to jump over the couches in order to engage Jeremiah in a fistfight. 

 

Nunnally gave Sir Guildford, standing at the corner of the room with his back straight and his hands behind his back, a conflicted look, but the man just shook his head. At least he didn’t look like he was going for his sword anytime soon. He must have at least felt that his Princess was safe in Jeremiah’s presence, even if the two of them might cause the collapse of the newly built palace just by their volume alone. 

 

“Stop.” She demanded from them, but neither could hear her over their own accusation before Nunnally bumped her wheelchair very deliberately against the heavy marble table, enough to rattle the crystal bowl atop it. “Stop it, both of you!”

 

That seemed to startle them out of it, at least, although neither of them looked like they were willing to give up their argument any time soon. Jeremiah had a scowl on his lips, while Cornelia was openly baring her teeth in threat, the both of them tense for a fight. 

 

“Sister Cornelia. Sir Gottwald.” She couldn’t seem to lose her habits from years of living in Japan, where she had attached honorifics to names as Suzaku and Sayoko had taught her to. Her siblings often looked at her with amusement and fondness as she continued to call them ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ along with their names, but for Nunnally, the only person she could imagine without an honorific attached was Lelouch. He was simply her brother, first and foremost, and didn’t need both the title and name attached because if she were to speak about a brother in specific, it would be him. 

 

She pushed the thought from her mind as soon as she found herself thinking of her brother again. 

 

“We’re not here to argue past actions.” She told the both of them firmly. “From here, we have a fresh start. We’re not here to bring up the past or point blame at each other. There’s already been enough of that, don’t you think?”

 

Jeremiah gave the older princess one final glare before he forcibly softened his features and turned his attention to Nunnally, dipping his head in acknowledgement. “Of course, Your Majesty. It is as you say.”

 

Nunnally accepted that, and turned her attention to her sister, but didn’t prompt her again. She was Empress now, and should not need to ask twice, older sister or not. 

 

It took several seconds longer for Cornelia to school her expression. “...You’re right. Of course.”

 

While the two of them certainly weren’t going to get along any time soon, Nunnally would count that as a win. 

 

“You had a request to make of Sir Gottwald.” She reminded Cornelia, who bustled slightly before turning her attention to sneer at the knight. Nunnally ignored that, and turned her head toward Jeremiah. “And you swore yourself to serve and obey the royal family.”

 

“Just the vi Britannia bloodline,” Jeremiah corrected, as if just saying that wasn’t an act of treason in itself. “I will accept any order you ask of me, Your Majesty.”

 

His open declaration of loyalty seemed to both enrage and soothe Cornelia, from what Nunnally could tell. She could understand, in a way— Jeremiah might have been involved in a great many tragedies, and shifted his loyalty from one side to another according to her sister’s views, but in the end his conviction had always been true. 

 

Jeremiah Gottwald swore his loyalty to Empress Marianne, and when she died and her children were presumed dead, he spent seven years under the service and other Princes and Princesses in attempts to find her murderer. From what Nunnally knew, the moment he found out her brother’s heritage, Jeremiah had swore himself into Lelouch’s service and forsook all other oaths. 

 

He had been true and steadfast in his loyalty to the vi Britannia children. In that regard, even Cornelia would never be able to accuse him of intending to betray Nunnally. She could call him a traitor all she liked, but she and the rest of the world already knew the lengths he would go to to serve Lady Marianne and her children. 

 

“My sister,” and here Nunnally consciously worked to drop Cornelia’s name from her words. It didn’t matter much, anyway, seeing as she really only had one brother and one sister left, and there was no way of misunderstanding whom she meant, “wants to be free of— Lelouch’s Geass.”

 

The words almost felt like taboo, to say so easily in a room with more than two people, both either sworn to secrecy or who would never tell even upon their deathbeds. 

 

But it didn’t matter. Every person in this room had to know what happened, whether they acknowledged it or not. 

 

They all knew about Geass, and they all knew about her brother. 

 

“If that is Your Majesty’s wish,” Jeremiah conceded, although there was a slant to his lips that spoke of his disapproval. “And it is within my means, then I will of course obey.”

 

“Do.” Nunnally told him. She gestured over to Cornelia. “I’m sorry for bringing you all the way out here for this.”

 

Cornelia gritted her jaw, but then walked so she stood in front of the couch instead of behind, and this time, Sir Guildford followed in her footsteps to stand beside his princess. Jeremiah, for his part, did not move from where he was gripping the couch, although he did look to the side at her and Zero. 

 

“Perhaps you should stand back.” He suggested, and already Zero gripped her wheelchair, awaiting her orders. 

 

She nodded, and he took her back, wheeling her carefully around the furniture till they were close to the wall, and she looked on at the proceedings curiously. 

 

When he was satisfied that Nunnally wouldn’t be caught up in.. whatever he was about to do, Jeremiah nodded and turned back to Cornelia and Guildford. 

 

“If this is another one of your deceptions,” Cornelia told him harshly, “Then know that I  _ will _ find a way to exact revenge.”

 

“Confident words from someone seeking my aid,” Jeremiah told her. Before she could respond to that, the golden eyepiece that part of what Nunnally originally thought a mask he just didn’t take off, slitted open to reveal the eye hidden underneath. 

 

She drew in a sharp breath. Unlike his other eye, there was something eerie and unnerving about the hidden eye, a bright blue as opposed to the amber of his other eye, and almost glowing with an inner light, lit up by a symbol— 

 

_ Geass _ , she recognized, although it looked slightly different. 

 

She didn’t see what happened exactly, but both Cornelia and Guilford inhaled sharply and seemed to take a step back, their eyes wide. After that moment, the golden mask on Jeremiah’s face slid closed again, hiding away the glowing blue eye.

 

Guilford’s face was immediately set in a scowl of anger so deep she thought it might fix permanently on his face. Obviously he was displeased with whatever it was that her brother had him do. Cornelia, on the other hand, looked stunned. 

 

“...is that it?” Nunnally asked hesitantly. 

 

“That’s it, Your Majesty.” Jeremiah confirmed. 

 

With that, he seemed to return to a knight’s pose of waiting, back straight with his hands behind his back, expression neutral as he waited for further orders to carry out. Nunnally didn’t much notice his waiting as she eyed Cornelia and Guilford carefully. 

 

“And, sister?” She asked, far too curious to keep the words to herself. “What did Lelouch ask you to do?”

 

Cornelia looked lost for words, and Nunnally couldn’t help the stab of victorious glee in her gut before she shoved it down. Whatever it was, it wasn’t as terrible as Cornelia that it was, and wasn’t just exactly what Nunnally had told her? 

 

Whatever it was, those words were the wrong question to ask, and the lost look on Cornelia’s face was smoothed over to the a neutral expression. She looked guarded once more, and once more unwilling to consider things from a different point of view. Judging by the expression on Jeremiah’s face, he could see that as well. 

 

“It doesn’t matter.” She told Nunnally cooly. “But it’s gone now. So it seems Gottwald’s technique does work, after all.”

 

She turned a calculating eye on Jeremiah, who bristled. Nunnally interrupted that train of thought as she said, “And we should be grateful that Sir Gottwald is cooperating with us for this request.”

 

“You could rid all the Geass here in Pendragon.” She told him, ignoring Nunnally’s words. “Return all those people back to normal.”

 

“I would not.” Jeremiah told her firmly.

 

“And if Nunnally ordered you to?” Cornelia pressed.

 

“My orders from Emperor Lelouch were to keep his sister safe. As a servant of Her Majesty, that remains my first priority regardless of orders. Or have you not learnt that lesson from nine years ago?”

 

This time, the accusation seemed to hit harder, perhaps in combination with whatever Cornelia had learned of Lelouch’s commands, and she snapped back hoarsely, “ _ I was ordered to leave! _ ”

 

“And maybe,” Jeremiah snapped back, looking more angry than taking joy in the accusations, “if you hadn’t that day, none of this would have happened.”

 

“Okay, that is enough from  _ both of you _ .” Nunnally interrupted, voice hard. She didn’t want to hear any more of that conversation— the guilt that she barely remembered her mother, and therefore all the pain from that night had been the reminders of what happened to her and what she lost rather than true grief for a woman that others kept insisting was more amazing than Nunnally’s own injuries. 

 

From what she could believe, her mother’s assassination might not even have changed that much. Not when her father didn’t care for his children in the first place. With Nunnally’s safety first and foremost on his mind, Lelouch would have confronted their father about that at some point, and then lost his temper over it. 

 

Maybe Empress Marianne would have been able to protect her children, but Nunnally didn’t know her well enough outside of her reputation to know for sure. She was mainly a blur in her memories, a beautiful blur, but still with very little substance outside of the stories told to her. 

 

(She wondered if that’s what would happen with Lelouch someday.)

 

It was hard staring down at two people who seemed to love her mother so much, both so hurt and so broken from her death, and wonder if they even saw her when they looked at her. 

 

“That’s enough,” she repeated, quieter as they actually fell silent. “I will respect Sir Gottwald’s wishes, as this is his ability and burden to bear.”

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

 

“And what about you?” Cornelia spoke up, an arm reaching out to comfort Guilford, who still looked rather dazed. She turned to Nunnally, though, to signify what she meant. “At the very least, Nunnally, you should remember what he did.”

 

She was about to refuse, as she had the first time, before the wording of the phrase registered. That— it was exactly what she wanted, after all. To remember him. She hadn’t wanted his Geass gone because it was something of his that might remain with her, but she also wanted so much to know, even if those moments were horrible, just a little bit more about her brother. 

 

But she didn’t dare. What if those were the last things left? What if Jeremiah cancelled the Geass… and that would the last new memory she would ever have of her brother?

 

….Coward. She was a coward.

 

Cornelia must have noticed her hesitation, as her tone turned soft as she continued, “I’m not saying this to pressure you, Nunnally. But you, of all people, deserve to know. There will be no one to speak with about him, and no one who can quite understand him as you can. The whole world might feel like the enemy to you at some point because of this.”

 

She let her arm drop from Guilford, and made her way over to her younger sister, before kneeling down to get to eye level. Nunnally was reminded of Cornelia’s own grief— of having no one to understand who Euphemia was, that the Euphemia she knew was a kind and beautiful person and not what the world wanted to make her out as. 

 

“If I had.” She stopped suddenly, and then seemed to think better of her own hesitation. “Even if it was nothing but bad memories, I would want the new memories of Euphie.”

 

“But I already know what he did.” Nunnally confessed, the conflict in her tone transferring to the frown on her face. “And if I do— if I remember this— then isn’t that it? Wouldn’t that be… the very last thing?”

 

The very last memory to be uncovered, forcing her to accept that she would never speak with her brother again. She hated that she felt so thrown just by the mention of her brother. That she, meant to be a powerful Empress, was so easily reduced to nothing more than a child still reaching out to an older brother who was long gone.

 

Cornelia laid a hand over Nunnally’s own, and that gesture was so familiar, so  _ close _ to what she wanted, that Nunnally at once hated it despite the comfort it brought her. 

 

“It’s been four months.” Her sister said. “Don’t you think it’s time?”

 

It… It made sense. Nunnally hated it even more than the warm touch, but it did make sense. It was selfish of her, but she didn’t want to hurt over her brother’s death anymore. Everyone told her grief would get easier with time, but maybe four months just wasn’t enough for her. She looked at Cornelia and she could see her sister still grieving Euphemia’s death, despite it being well over a year now. She didn’t want that to happen to herself; she wanted to move on, wanted to protect this world that her brother left to her. 

 

She wanted the hole in her heart to go away. 

 

She nodded, and then lifted her gaze to Jeremiah. “...Yes. Do it. Please.”

 

He didn’t look pleased, but there was an accepting bow to his posture, and he waited until Zero stepped away from her (and was Zero himself also under a Geass? Did he not want that gone?) before she saw the mechanism in his mask open up once more, revealing that blue, blue eye. 

 

It didn’t feel like anything at first. Just a slight nudge in her mind, like a lock being turned. 

 

And then— 

 

It wasn’t the Damocles. The memory was blurry, with time and with darkness, but Nunnally felt very young and scared and it must have been the middle of the night and she couldn’t recall much more than the general feeling of  _ fear _ strong and sharp, overwhelming everything else, like waking up right after a terrible nightmare only to feel it carrying over to the waking world. 

 

She remembered hands, remembered struggling, and then she remembered  _ pain _ . Pain more intense than anything she felt before, ripping through her body as she screamed and failed to grasp on to anything else, failed to understand anything that was going on because everything  _ hurt, it hurt _ , and she couldn’t comprehend anything in the world except for that overwhelming, reality-defying pain that ripped through her. The world smelled like blood and felt like burning agony that was too much for her young mind, fire and torment until she passed out into blissful, cold darkness. 

 

Her head was muffled when she woke, to sounds like voices and speaking, her tongue thick in her mouth and her body numb as her eyes tried to focus on bright lights above her and nothing really registered in her brain. It was all like a dream, like she wasn’t there in her own body and couldn’t move, couldn’t think, but there was a voice telling her to look one way and she trusted that voice. It was both authoritative and familiar, and she looked to see someone— someone—

 

Eyes like birds’ wings, like hypnotism and illusions, and Nunnally’s world went dark and blank once more. 

 

And— 

 

Years later— 

 

And then— 

 

Her  _ struggle _ . She  _ hated _ the order he gave her, couldn’t stand it, and at the very moment she was back on the Damocles, in the middle of a vibrant garden made just for her, staring at her brother as he frowned at her, and there was something in his expression— something  _ breakable _ — and she  _ hated _ him in that moment, because she had been so so sure he would never turn his power against her. 

 

Even if the rest of the world fell, she knew— he would never, ever turn against her. That very trust was so fundamental that she had forced her eyes open despite Schneizel warning her about Lelouch’s Geass. She  _ knew _ he wouldn’t use it against her, just as she knew that so long as she held the Key of Damocles, he would never get it. 

 

It was like an invasive force in her mind, taking over her limbs as she struggled to keep a grip on her own free will and choices, and tried to pry her own unresponsive arms down, to keep her grip on the Key instead of handing to him the weapon that could destroy the world. 

 

More than that, it was the weapon that would  _ redeem _ him, didn’t he know? When Damocles was hated by the entire world, then the world wouldn’t hate her brother so much. That had been the solution she came up with, the only thing left in her mind that could save him— and he had saved her for so long, for all of her life, that of course she would do anything in turn to save him, even if it meant defeating him. 

 

“No—!” She struggled, and she  _ struggled _ , but it was no use. Her arm was out of her control. Her body was out of her control. Even her thoughts were out of her control. “ _ No! _ ”

 

She had to— she had to  _ save _ him!

 

But her will was weak, and soon enough her limbs slackened as she presented to Key to him with a smile, with the very same smile as if he had come for tea unexpectedly, and oh, wasn’t it  _ wonderful _ ? The memory of how relieved she was to follow his orders made her sick to her stomach. 

 

This was the power that her brother held: to demand anything from anyone, and have them obey. 

 

“For you, big brother,” she said sweetly at that moment, handing over the Key to his salvation, to the world’s ruin, like a gift. 

 

His expression, so unreadable but somehow fragile, wasn’t something she had ever seen before. The frown on his face was so grieved that she could hardly believe it. This couldn’t be her brother, who had kept the happiness in his tone as he told her stories of beautiful princesses and happily ever afters even as they walked through days of land that smelt of rotting corpses. This couldn’t be her brother, who was so warm and so gentle, never once so much as raising his voice to her no matter how poorly she behaved. 

 

And to her surprise, he took measured steps toward her and then fell to one knee, head bowed in supplication. Her proud brother, who conquered the entire world… he raised his arms, accepting the Key as one would accept a sword from a sovereign, and at the time, Nunnally felt nothing. She felt nothing, but enduring the memory now, it made her want to cry. 

 

He  _ knew _ . She was sure of it. In that moment, her brother had known that he was dooming himself, that moment he touched the Key of Damocles, all of Nunnally’s plans to save him would fall apart. 

 

And then he raised his head again, and she could see his smile. It wasn’t that of the Demon Emperor, or even the smile of someone who had  _ won _ . It wasn’t the smile of someone who knew he was going to pay for what he did, or anything of that sort. 

 

In that one moment, in that one memory she had forgotten, her brother smiled like he loved her. 

 

“Nunnally,” he told her, and his voice was so so soft, “you are already leading a way of life with your own set of admirable principles.” He finally took the Key from her fully, raising it up so she could see what he meant. He probably never meant for her to remember his words. He knew what he was doing, and that was why he could smile like that— not like earlier, when his face had been a blank mask, uncaring and cooly apathetic. “That is why I can walk my own path now. I love you.”

 

The last words were both a promise and an apology, and Lelouch rose up, Key in hand, his expression wavering a moment as he looked down at her. He looked— so soft, and fond, and like he was moments away from crying. 

 

The moment was over as he closed his eyes and inhaled shakily, and then turned away from her and started to walk away, steps falling into confidence again.

 

She remembered. 

 

That was the moment she regained her mind, and control over her own body again. She hadn’t remembered his words, or his smile, and was instead shocked that the Key had been gone from her hand. She hadn’t been able to believe it— couldn’t believe that her kind-hearted brother could possibly use his power on her. 

 

She had been enraged. She had been  _ powerless _ once again. 

 

“No!” He was walking away from her, and there it was, the Key that was meant to save him, but now that he had it, Nunnally doomed the entire world. 

 

She had gone after him, had fallen out of her wheelchair as it hit the stairs, and all the while her brother continued to walk away from her. She never felt as betrayed as she had in that one moment, when the one person whom she believed would never turn against her was walking away. She was weak, and powerless, and she couldn’t  _ do anything _ except try to make him hurt as much as she was hurting, in whatever way possible.

 

“ _ Lelouch… you’re a monster! _ ”

 

There were tears sliding down her cheeks, and Nunnally covered her face in her hands the moment she realized that she wasn’t in her own memory anymore. She remembered.  _ She remembered _ . 

 

Lelouch hadn’t ever meant for her to remember, hadn’t meant for her to hear his words goodbye, and wasn’t it just like her brother to do that? To do whatever it took to get to his end goal, but still manage to be the person she always knew he was: kind, and gentle, and so soft. 

 

She could still see the look in his eyes, the smile on his lips, and the defeated posture that he hid away soon enough. 

 

“Nunnally?” And now, now she could register Cornelia’s voice, worried as her sister hovered over her. She couldn’t bring herself to pull her hands away from her face, the heat of her tears like glue. She couldn’t— “What happened?”

 

And distantly, she could hear Cornelia turn and snap at Jeremiah, “What did you do to her?”

 

“He didn’t—” Nunnally interrupted, voice wet and hands still covering her face. “He didn’t do anything. That he wasn’t supposed to do.”

 

She didn’t want to hear them arguing right now. No more about who was to blame, who was at fault, and why neither of them managed to protect her mother. She was done with that. Cornelia seemed to have fallen silent, perhaps sympathizing with the onslaught of new memories. It was nothing more than a few seconds, but… 

 

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly behind the cover of her hands, breathing in harshly. 

 

“He told me—” It was fair, it wasn’t  _ fair _ , “that he was proud of me. And that he loved me.”

 

And she could see it now, in her mind’s eye, the expression he must have made every time he looked at her in the years she couldn’t see it. The slight smile, the fondness warm and lighting eyes a deeper violet than anything she had ever seen before. In that moment, all the harshness had disappeared, and he looked— God. She couldn’t even describe it, not even in the confines of her own mind. 

 

He looked just as she remembered him, as a child, that fond look he got whenever either she or Euphie did something silly and nonsensical, trying to one up each other in order to make him smile. 

 

She never thought she’d see that expression again. Certainly not on him— older now, his features sharped to adulthood, after Euphie’s death. She thought she had dreamed that expression for the months afterward, that every time she thought he was smiling at her during her years blind, she must have been mistaken. 

 

It was almost like watching him die in front of her all over again, his blood staining her hands in her desperation to let him know that she was there, that she loved him, she was sorry, and  _ please don’t leave me—  _

 

“He was saying goodbye,” Nunnally rasped out, and dug her fingers into her eyes to try and stem the flow, biting down hard on her lip to keep in the same feeling that had burst in her chest when she wailed over his death, “and I wasn’t supposed to remember, and I called him a  _ monster _ afterward!”

 

She didn’t know how long she sat there, crying, her hands over her face as if that simple barrier could keep out the world. 

 

“Why did he die?” She asked, minutes, eons, later, still not brave enough to lower her hands. It was ugly crying, she knew, because that’s what her despair looked like, manifesting in ways now to make her skin bloated and blotchy, with tears and snot and the flush of grief. “Why did he— do it?”

 

“...He did what he had to, Your Majesty.” Jeremiah told her, although his tone was also subdued. Cornelia didn’t have anything to say to that, and both Guilford and Zero remained silent. 

 

“But he didn’t have to!” She wailed, and  _ oh _ , the tears hadn’t stopped after all. She shook her head, trying to just— will control over herself. “He was already Emperor— and he had you! He had Geass, and he had you, and he had the ultimate position of power! He could have— he could have Geassed everyone to follow him, to forget his sins, to love him, and no one would have been able to say no!”

 

Because Jeremiah would have followed him, no matter what. 

 

“He could have created a peaceful world just by forcing it,” she insisted, and it was hard to breathe through the wetness in her eyes and throat and nose and she didn’t dare to lower her hands, “or— he didn’t even have to force it. When he first took over, so many people were cheering for him already. He didn’t even need Geass after that— I know my brother. He could have won everyone over, just by being himself! But… But he chose…”

 

To be the Demon Emperor, over the Emperor of Justice. To cover up the truth, that he was trying to make things  _ better _ . He lied, and he lied, and he carried all those lies to his death, and beyond. 

 

He never even meant for her to find out that  _ he loved her _ in the end. 

 

“ _ He chose to die _ ,” she wailed, unable to control her own volume at this point. She could barely breathe through her tears, hiccupping through her words. “He didn’t have to! Why just order one thing from us? Why not change our way of thinking entirely? He had so many different— methods, and ways, and he’s always been so smart, he could have done so much better than— than  _ me _ , and he could have been amazing—” 

 

She was babbling, but couldn’t seem to stop. The words just tore themselves from her throat in the same way her tears just wouldn’t stop. 

 

“—while I’m just  _ selfish _ , how can I do this when I want him to live more than I care about the rest of the world? I— I—” 

 

Warm arms wrapped around her, and Nunnally wailed as she registered the scent of Cornelia’s perfume, and the soft hair not her own that tickled onto her neck as her sister pulled her close and enveloped her. It was only then when she was already hidden that she dared to let her hands down, and pressed her face, wetness and all, against the rough material of Cornelia’s uniform, unheeding of how much a mess she was going to make of it. 

 

“Nellie,” Nunnally cried, the childhood nickname that Euphie kept daring her to use coming naturally, “ _ Nellie, he wanted to die _ . He— I couldn’t keep him here, I wasn’t enough, and I called him a monster when he told me he loved me, and he said he’d never leave me but he left— he left and he’s never coming back—” 

 

Her words dissolved into incoherent noises and tears as her sister held her tightly, even as she grabbed onto her uniform with wet, dirty hands and made a mess of the perfectly starched fabric. 

 

Cornelia stayed, and didn’t say a word as Nunnally cried herself out of tears. 

  
  


— 

  
  


She closed her eyes and breathed in, and then breathed out in a completely different reality. 

 

Empress Nunnally vi Britannia officially pardoned Adelise Beaulieu after a very long talk with the teen girl, after having sat down with her for dinner one evening rather than try to interrogate her as others had done. Nunnally spent nearly an hour not so much getting the young girl to talk, but rather talking at her about— little things. The weather in Pendragon now. Her likes and dislikes. Asking after her favorite foods and whether she’d like the kitchens to bring it up. 

 

She was accompanied by both C.C. and Zero, and it was strange to see that C.C. didn’t look much older than Adelise at all, enough that the younger girl kept darting curious glances at the witch. 

 

The truth came out in the end, as Nunnally suspected it would with a gentle hand, that Miss Beaulieu’s family hadn’t been entirely truthful after all. Her mother really had been an ambassador to Britannia who died during the FREIJA attack, and little Adelise had been on the phone when her with it happened, so that no matter what the news tried to say later on about how Emperor Lelouch was at blame for everything, she knew better. 

 

It turned out Adelise Beaulieu, aged fifteen, was quite the masterful computer technician and hacker as well, using a demeanor much like Nina’s at a younger age as a front as she got around firewalls and false trails to get to the truth of things: who really managed to order the strike on Pendragon. 

 

She then grew more and more bitter as the years went on and it was all hidden from the public. 

 

Her father’s second wife tried her best to raise Adelise, enough that the girl begged that no harmful consequences would befall her father’s new family. 

 

“I promise,” Nunnally told her solemnly, “that nothing will happen to them because of this. And… nothing will happen to you, either.”

 

“Then why am I still here?” Adelise demanded, her accent thicker than before with her agitation. The girl squirmed in her plainclothes, white and more suited for a hospital or prison. “I tried to kill you. That is the death penalty in Britannia.”

 

“It was,” Nunnally agreed pleasantly, “but you didn’t succeed. And I don’t think you deserve to die. And unfortunately for your beliefs, what I say goes.”

 

The girl scowled but seemed to relax just the slightest bit. 

 

It was only at the end of the very long and very awkward dinner that Nunnally chose to tell her, “I’m sorry. I can’t begin to express how sorry I am at your loss, and I know you don’t want to hear it. The pain of losing someone you love dearly… it’s indescribable. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone in the world.”

 

“You did this to me.” Adelise accused, tone hard no matter how soft her words were. Her face twisted, something ugly coming to the surface. 

 

“And I will do my best to fix everything,” Nunnally said. “I… I know it will never be enough, but I won’t stop trying. Your mother was an ambassador, she must have wanted peace. I promise you, Adelise, that I will dedicate my life to the peace she wished for, and figure out how to fix my mistakes.”

 

That seemed to bring a bout of confusion, and Nunnally took advantage of that to continue, “You have a family who loves you very much waiting for you, and worried about you. You’re smart, and have such a bright future ahead of you. Please. Don’t throw your life away for this. If you really must have revenge, then make sure you grow up. Come challenge me properly. Challenge the entire empire if you must, but don’t do it in such a way that would mean throwing your life away.”

 

She left the younger girl simmering in a confused anger, letting several of her Royal Guard take her away. 

 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Zero asked her, and Nunnally could only shake her head, because no matter what she did, she felt like Lelouch would have done a better job. Would have been able to convince the girl to continue, or even to work for him in the end. He had that unfailing charisma which managed to draw people to him. By contrast, Nunnally could only manage to diffuse the situation at best. At worst, she changed nothing at all. 

 

“I’m protected,” she told him. “And she’s not. I don’t want to see her punished over this. I want her to learn. I want her to know… I don’t want to take her away from her family.”

 

And then she turned her mind towards preparing for an entirely different matter. 

 

Two weeks to talk to Schneizel, to talk to C.C., to talk to Lloyd Asplund, to talk to Nina Einstein, to talk to Cornelia, and to contact Kallen Kouzeki to confirm some facts with her. Nunnally hadn’t dared share the extent of her circumstances, or what she hoped for, but she knew that if she could continue on this strange path Geass was taking her down, she wanted to be prepared. 

 

“If you change too much,” C.C. warned her, “you may not be able to come back.”

 

That was if she really was going back to the past. She didn’t know yet, and couldn’t trust the fledgling flutter of hope in her heart that she might be able to do something—  _ change _ things. 

 

Nights of going over plans with C.C. and Suzaku, of what to say and when to say it, of what to do and what might change when she decided to change things. None of their plans were foolproof— not a single one could be guaranteed to work in any situation. They were all different people than who they had been five years ago, six years ago, and Nunnally was made painfully aware of that. 

 

“I won’t believe you,” Suzaku breathed to her one night after she convinced him to at least give her Geass a  _ try _ . “If you told me you were from the future. But that doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if I believe you. What matters is—” 

 

“Save Euphemia.” Nunnally breathed out, the words a wish on her lips. “Save  _ Lelouch _ .”

 

In the dark of the night, in the small hours where he felt safe enough to take off Zero’s mask, Suzaku’s eyes were just as bright with a fervent hope. 

 

“Lelouch would never stop his plans.” Nunnally had concluded after going through various scenarios with the two of them. “Not unless I was in danger. And even then— he stops acting rationally.”

 

“Yes.” C.C. told her. “His plans were always brilliant until either of you got involved. Then he got  _ stupid _ .”

 

They poured over information— things that only each of them knew. Where each person was, at what time, and how to get them to  _ move _ from their paths. Nunnally memorized pages of scientific jargon from Earl Asplund, citing that she wanted to know exactly how the legs he built for her worked. This time around, she would not be waiting in her wheelchair back in the Academy, blind to not just the visible world but to the plans of everyone around her. 

 

“I’ll have to lie,” she confirmed with C.C. and Suzaku. “To everyone.”

 

Suzaku didn’t look like he liked the idea any, but nodded in confirmation. “If that’s what it takes.”

 

“Don’t worry.” C.C. told her. “You won’t be able to lie to me, but you  _ can _ keep secrets. I wouldn’t believe everything you say— it’d be too fantastical. Too many things have changed. The me back then wouldn’t care who lived and who died, so long as my plans went through in the end. You’ll be able to keep most of this secret, even from me.”

 

“And now?” Nunnally asked her. “Is your plan all that matters to you now?”

 

C.C. had watched her carefully with gleaming amber eyes, cold and aloof, but somehow containing just a glint of warmth. Something that the C.C. in her dream didn’t have. 

 

“I can wait.” She said.

 

Another conversation where she hesitantly revealed what she would do with their past selves, Nina Einstein started crying right then and there. It wasn’t the reaction she expected when deciding to double check with one of her scientists, but in hindsight, she should have seen it coming.

 

“Please,” the scientist pleaded, “save Princess Euphemia. Even if you have to lie to me, then lie to me. Stop me from— don’t let me create any more weapons. Even if it’s just a dream. Even if it’s all— nothing more than a wish.”

 

_ Is this what Geass is? _ Nunnally wondered.  _ A wish? _

 

“Isn’t there anything you regret?” She asked Schneizel on a day where the two of them finally had the time to take tea together. She didn’t often spend time with her remaining brother, and now that she could, now that she might be erasing this entire timeline, she wondered why. While she did hold a grudge about his lies, he was still the only brother she had left. It was strange— he had so much in common with Lelouch, and yet nothing at all. 

 

They were both so smart, both so charming, and both so used to getting their ways. And yet there was a coldness to Schneizel, despite his love for her, that made her wary. 

 

Maybe it was in the way he admitted feeling very little for individuals in general, or in the way he would tell her that he too loved Lelouch, yet he had been willing to kill him without a second thought. 

 

“Regret is not something I can afford to contemplate.” He told her, with that same smile he gave to everyone as the White Prince, the one who was always in control. “It is meant only to be learned from, so that I may do better in the future.”

 

“That doesn’t help,” Nunnally complained, feeling so very small next to him. He never seemed to have a weak spot, never seemed to have a moment where he wasn’t perfect and calm. She wondered how Lelouch defeated him in the first place, knowing her brother was immensely emotional, and tended to use his emotions to fuel his plans. While that might work with everyone else, but Nunnally couldn’t see how that would work against Schneizel, with his wall of ice. “If you just— had another chance. To, I don’t know, say something to Lelouch. What would you say?”

 

“If I had another chance, I would not lose the Damocles.” Schneizel informed her. 

 

“I don’t mean that.” She said. “I meant— oh, before that. If you knew he was alive. If you knew that the both of us were alive, and if things were different. What would you have said to him?”

 

He seemed to contemplate that for a while.

 

“I suppose,” he said with a frown, “I would tell him that he grew up well. That I didn’t approve of his actions as Zero, but they were formidable nevertheless.”

 

Nunnally smiled. “Is that you saying you were proud?”

 

“His methods left much to be desired,” Schneizel corrected her. He seemed stern at that moment, but the harshness melted off the next moment, and he asked, “Why bring this up now, Nunnally?”

 

“I guess because I never did before.” She brushed it off, holding the delicate cup of tea between both hands like a mug rather than the ladylike manner in which she was expected to express when at tea with the most powerful man in the empire. “We never talked about it before.”

 

“I assumed because you were not ready.” Schneizel told her. 

 

“And what about you?” 

 

“Cornelia and I mourned his death eight years before he actually died.” Her half-brother told her. “A second time is… redundant.”

 

The words themselves might have been harsh and cold, but the way he looked down at his cup of tea, the manner in which he folded his fingers around the handle… Nunnally thought he looked rather lost, then. It was hard to read Schneizel, not when he perfected his courtly persona at an age before she was born, and likely before Lelouch had been born, too. 

 

“If I had a chance to say something,” Schneizel told her, later, long after they already dropped the subject and she was confused for a long while what he was talking about, “I would tell him to come home. That there were more people who cared for him than he originally imagined.”

 

“Like you?” Nunnally asked, because she needed to know. She needed the confirmation, and the words from Schneizel himself, before that path opened up to her. “If that did happen, what would you say? How would you feel?”

 

“...Quite the thought experiment,” Schneizel told her, although his tone was as empty of suspicion as his smile, which only lead Nunnally to realize he did in fact know something was up. 

 

“Just this once,” she pleaded. “Let’s say something did happen that way. Would you have kept us safe?”

 

“Of course.” Her remaining half-brother told her, in all seriousness. “It is my duty as your brother. And… my privilege, had things turned out differently.”

 

While the words seemed just as empty and kind as any other lie he’s told her other the years, there was something strangely sincere in his tone that made her think perhaps Schneizel really did mean that; that he was telling the complete truth, if only because there was nothing at stake now for it.

 

In the end, he tensed as she hugged him, but didn’t pull away. 

 

The more important conversations, more concrete to her plans, came later.

 

“You should not be at the stage where your Geass is uncontrollable,” C.C. told her after their preparations, and after Nunnally managed to grab a chat with everyone important to her. Most she did not tell of her plans, especially when the risk was still so high. Who was to know what would happen? Her body remained the first time, and this time she was seeking something that might destroy her own timeline. 

 

“How do you know I went back?” She asked C.C. “How are you sure I wasn’t just— dreaming? In my own little world, ignoring this one?”

 

“We have a contract.” The witch told her. “Within a certain limit, I will always know where you are. I will always know when you are lying to me. And I will always know when you use your power. You used it for a moment, and then disappeared. If it were only a dream, then I would have sensed you using the Geass the entire time you were asleep. Instead, it was as if you slipped away from me.”

 

“So you’re telling me there’s a real chance,” Nunnally confirmed with her that moment, her heart beating rapidly at the glimmer of hope. “A real chance I can change things.”

 

“A month ago I would have said such a thing was impossible.” C.C. told her. “A week ago, I would not have believed it. But… your Geass is strange. Unusual. I wouldn’t discount the idea.”

 

“It might not change anything,” Suzaku had told her, ever the pragmatist. “Even if you really are going back in time, it doesn’t mean that would change this future.”

 

“You’ve been hanging around that scientist too much.” C.C. told him. “He wouldn’t understand Geass even if I gave it to him.”

 

“That doesn’t matter,” Suzaku retorted. “You can’t understand it even now.”

 

“And neither of those points matter,” Nunnally interjected before C.C. could do more than scowl back. “If that’s the case, then I come back. If it’s another timeline, then I’ll change things there and come back. If it’s a dream, I’ll change what I can and come back. If it’s really my own past… then I’ll change things. That’s all there is to it.”

 

She could tell Suzaku wanted to say something else, but refrained from doing so. She made sure to stay behind after C.C. left that planning session, a hand on Suzaku’s arm to draw his attention before he could leave. 

 

“And what would you do?” She asked him, quietly, privately. “If you can believe that this really is time travel?”

 

Suzaku, dressed in Zero’s regalia with the helmet halfway up to his face, black fabric mask already pulled up over his nose, looked quite staggered. “I—” 

 

He must have thought about it, though, because his answer came quickly, if quietly in a tone of reluctant admission, “I… used to think, that if I could go back… I’d tell myself to find another way. Find a way to make sure that we wouldn’t be enemies.”

 

Yes, that was exactly what Nunnally wanted. Could she manage to influence the past Suzaku to do that, though?

 

“Now…” Suzaku trailed off. “I think the only way for that to happen is to ensure we stop lying to each other. He lied— all the time. About everything. But… I did, too. If we could have trusted each other from the beginning with the truth, no matter how harsh it was… I think that would have made all the difference.”

 

It was a sobering thought.

 

While she originally wanted to talk to C.C. and go back immediately once she had her confirmation, Nunnally instead took her time and got everything she figured she could need. 

 

Make sure the Empire would run in her absence— not that she was anything more than a figurehead these days, attending charities and being seen in the media. Officially, the news would be that she had quite the shock and was recovering still. Before, she might have cared that they played her off as the fragile little girl she used to be, but now she couldn’t care less. 

 

In her absence, there were plenty of others whom would take over. With Kallen Kozuki and Gino Weinberg agreeing to play ambassador from the UFN and assure all the alliances stay stable, Schneizel and Zero were given majority control of the Empire and its choices. Cornelia agreed to come back, as well, to take over the decisions that Nunnally would normally make, the ones that required a softer touch. 

 

It might have better gone to someone who was softer herself, but Nunnally knew that if asked, Cornelia could reveal what decisions Euphemia would have made, and that was the kind of choices Nunnally wanted. 

 

She had been hesitant to contact Jeremiah and Sayoko, to get them involved again, but they would be concerned if she slipped unconscious for some time without warning. In the end, they were the ones supporting her decisions above all others. 

 

“Write it all down,” Sayoko told her, after Nunnally hesitantly revealed her actions and how she sought C.C. out for Geass, and the resulting dream of the past. Sayoko managed to provide boundless information— the maid kept and also remembered meticulous details on everything that happened, from allies to foes, to technology and important news. “When you get back. The moment you get back. Even if it’s in the middle of the night. There will be things you will forget if you put it off, as inconsequential as they might seem.”

 

“Whatever you decide,” Jeremiah told her over video, sending her schematics that made her head spin. “You will make things better. If there is anyone in the world His Majesty Lelouch would listen to, it’s you.”

 

They gave her times, dates, and locations. Most would be made obsolete the moment she changed events, but they were given to her nevertheless. Jeremiah tested her on pages of information to memorize, and Nunnally dutifully managed to recall every detail. It was easier on her memory, having spent nearly half her life blind, since she had plenty of practice with memorizing information that she wouldn’t be able to see. 

 

“Take some lottery numbers back,” C.C. urged during another of their talks, even as Suzaku sputtered behind her. “Honestly. Lelouch could have done with less gambling.”

 

“So you’re encouraging Nunnally to do it instead?!”

 

“I’m telling her to be a lucky charm,” C.C. drawled. “An innocuous series of numbers every once in a while is the dream of all time travelers. Not to mention, it’s the easiest way to get someone to believe you’re from the future. Where does that money even go? If no one won it the first time around, you’re certainly not robbing anyone of a victory.”

 

There were good and bad advice all mixed up in there, and for the duration of those two weeks while she prepared, Nunnally had never laughed so loud or so hard, and never hugged so tightly, nor felt the warmth of so many people supporting her. 

 

“And remember,” C.C. told her mysteriously, once, catching her attention with two fingers holding her chin gently to ensure Nunnally would be looking at her straight on, amber gaze assessing her attention. “Remember why you agreed to the Damocles plan. Why did you think it would work?”

 

“I—” Nunnally faltered, shaken by the sudden intensity of the words. 

 

“It’s strange, isn’t it?” C.C. asked no one in particular, letting go of Nunnally’s chin that moment, all humor faded into a seriousness befitting the situation. “You and he came up with the same plan. At first I thought it must have been Schneizel. They always did have a very similar thought process, but no… it wasn’t him, was it? He wanted to rule the world with the Damocles. You wanted it to become a symbol of evil.”

 

“I wanted to do that to save my brother,” Nunnally admitted. “The moment— when I heard the broadcast. With the UFN. I knew they would never let him— they’d vilify him, no matter what.”

 

“The moment he enacted his plan,” C.C. observed. “You did as well. I can’t claim to know why, but I think you should remember that feeling. It will be important.”

 

“What will you do?” Suzaku asked when Nunnally prepared herself under C.C.’s guidance, resting in her bed. They would have doctors check up on her, and have her hooked up to numerous machines to ensure her safety, but for the most part, Nunnally wasn’t concerned about anything. “It might be enough just to nudge things in the right direction…”

 

“It wouldn’t be.” C.C. denied. “Lelouch is too good at adjusting to situations. A nudge will do nothing.”

 

“You’re right,” Nunnally told them. She patted down the comforter over her legs and gave them a confident smile. 

 

“I’m going to change everything.”

  
  



	9. J'adoube

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter this time! A few light hearted moments, and Nunnally is racing straight out of the gate!

She wrote down over seventeen pages of information on her Braille typewriter the very first moment she could, as per Sayoko’s instructions. From various devices, she found out it was the day after Narita, and she didn’t have enough time to do all that she wanted. 

 

School. She thought. Classes. She wanted to skip them, but there were too many variables still, and people she needed to meet. She would need to talk to Alice. She would need to create a miracle. 

 

“Good morning, Mistress Nunnally,” Sayoko told her when she entered that morning, and then seemed to hesitate as she saw Nunnally in bed with her typewriter, pages scattered around her. “You’re up quite early this morning.”

 

Nunnally smiled in her direction, following her footfalls as Sayoko walked to the other side of the room and threw tied open the previously closed curtains. She could see the light of morning even behind her closed lids, and feel the cold plastic under her fingertips. 

 

Yes. This had to be real. 

 

“I had the most amazing dream,” she told her, putting the typewriter aside and raising her arms as Sayoko helped her out of bed and into her wheelchair so she could get ready for the day. “And I didn’t want to forget it.”

 

Sayoko knew Braille, of course, but it was something that her future self had admitted to being an effort to read, especially Braille in English. She could do it, but a passing glance of a page full of dots tended to be rather illegible to her without a good amount of concentration, which meant she would be intruding on Nunnally’s privacy, and Sayoko professed that she wouldn’t do that unless Nunnally asked her to. 

 

“If only Master Lelouch was as punctual as you,” Sayoko lamented, although there was humor in her tone. “And as excited in the mornings.”

 

Nunnally laughed quietly, lifting a hand to hide it. “I can wake him today, if you like.”

 

She hadn’t done that in— years, even before his death. Originally, she wanted to give him some privacy— blind or not, they were teenagers, and she heard enough classmates complain about younger siblings invading their privacy at every moment to promise herself that she would never do that to her older brother. 

 

Now, it felt like a missed opportunity, and she wanted very badly to startle him from his sleep and laugh at his reactions.

 

Maybe it was part of the giddiness still, of knowing that she managed to activate her Geass correctly, or that she might be in the past, or that she was  _ prepared _ this time. 

 

Sayoko huffed a laugh with her, but then said, “Best not to. He’s quite the grouch in the morning, isn’t he?”

 

Yes, he was, she thought fondly. And she missed hearing his stumbling footsteps or his slurred morning greetings. He was always so put together the rest of the time that it was amusing listening to him in the mornings, when he obviously very much wanted to just go back to bed. 

 

“I’m surprised, though,” Sayoko told her, helping her into her school uniform. “I would have imagined you’d be more upset.”

 

“Upset at what?” Nunnally asked. 

 

Sayoko hummed in response, zipping up the back of the uniform for her as she pulled her hair out from underneath her shirt. “At how often your brother has been away. I suppose I have underestimated you a bit, Mistress Nunnally.”

 

She wondered what her reaction had been originally. “Maybe I’ve grown up a little bit,” she admitted weakly.

 

“You needn’t say it like a bad thing,” Sayoko told her with a smile in her tone. “Growing up is not something that you should feel bad about. You’re doing very well.”

 

They made their way out of her room after she finished getting ready, and she grabbed her brush and settled it in her lap as Sayoko pushed her down the hall to the end where her brother’s room was. She was nearly vibrating in excitement, fingertips continually brushing against the fabric of her school uniform skirt as a way to anchor herself. 

 

Everything was  _ so _ real.

 

Sayoko knocked on the door, and Nunnally found herself pressing her fingers against a smile childishly, as if her glee might be loud enough to wake him and she had to cover it up. 

 

As expected, there wasn’t a response at all from beyond the door. Usually, Sayoko would have left it at that, as Lelouch had his own alarm clock that he tried his best to ignore. This time, on Nunnally’s insistence, she opened the door slowly, with enough noise and warning to give him plenty of time to at least shout at them not to come in if he needed to. 

 

Instead, it was quiet, and Nunnally giggled to herself as Sayoko wheeled her into the room, pausing and stepping away for a moment to open the curtains, just as she had done in Nunnally’s room. It got brighter in the room, and Nunnally could hear slight movement from the bed, although it didn’t seem enough to wake him. 

 

Nunnally wheeled herself the rest of the way carefully, stopping only when she bumped slightly into the edge of his bed. As Sayoko went to tie back the curtains, she remembered a time when she used to climb into his bed whenever it stormed outside. While that was appropriate for children, they were now both teenagers and instead, she leaned over and cupped her mouth before saying as loudly and cheerfully as she could manage, “Good morning, big brother!”

 

It might be a little mean, but it made her giggle as she heard his yelp and scramble to sit up in bed before he registered her and Sayoko’s presence, and dropped himself back onto his pillows. 

 

“Nunnally!” He sounded scandalized, which only made her laugh louder. Why had she never done this before, the last time around? She was so determined not to inconvenience him that it felt like she had lost all those sweet moments she missed from their childhood. 

 

She wondered if he would have been so overprotective if she had behaved like she used to, and realized that the answer was no. He would have given her the freedom to do what she wanted, even if he worried about her. 

 

And he would have worried endlessly. 

 

“You’ll be late if you don’t get up.” She told him sweetly, and smiled as she heard him fumble around to check his clock. 

 

“Sayoko,” she heard Lelouch groan out as he must have seen the time, the sound slightly muffled by fabric— pillows, which meant he hadn’t so much as succeeded in pushing himself up from the bed. “Why is she doing this?”

 

It was a rare act for her brother to act so immaturely, and seen only in the mornings when he was forced awake. As such, Sayoko indulged him, “She’s a teenager now, Master Lelouch. I’m sure Mistress Milly would agree you were the same at her age.”

 

...Was he? She hadn’t known that at all. 

 

She tried to picture Lelouch pranking Milly in the mornings, an easy enough feat as she remembered the numerous times that Milly bragged to her about  _ still _ being taller than him, as she had been rather tall from the time they had been taken in by the Ashford family; Milly’s oral records for Nunnally consisting of laughing about the fact that Lelouch hadn’t really hit a growth spurt until he was fifteen, and his rebuttal that  _ that _ was considered normal. 

 

He groaned from where he must have tried to suffocate himself in his pillow, and Nunnally reached out with a smile, wanting nothing more than to be able to open her eyes now and have the first thing she saw in the last seven years (physically, if discounting the future) to be her brother’s grumpy bedhead in the morning. 

 

In an ideal world, she thought, that would be the first thing she saw. That, or something equally as innocuous and quiet. 

 

“Good morning.” She told him again, this time with a fonder smile on her lips as she moved to grab his blankets. “I missed you.”

 

This seemed to wake him a little more from his grogginess, and Sayoko bustled about them, although Nunnally couldn’t imagine she had much to do, seeing as her brother tended to keep things very clean. She could hear the smile in his voice as he responded, “I was gone two days.”

 

Two days, and five years. 

 

It was easier this time to just smile as her fingers found his hair, as she noted his confusion, possibly at her clinginess. She always did try her best to not be a burden, and the past few days, for him, would have been unusual. 

 

“That’s longer than we’ve ever been apart,” she said, and it was true on both accounts. She had been so dependent on him, growing up, that they were never far from each other, or if so, then never for long. That seemed to wake her brother up, and he sat up, her hand falling from his hair as he got out of her reach. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he told her, “I’ve been neglecting you lately, haven’t I?”

 

She shook her head and made a noise of disagreement, drawing her hand back. “Of course not. I suppose I’m just afraid...” and she remembered now, why this conversation sounded so familiar. “We’ve been more distant, lately.”

 

She heard the rustling as he pushed his blankets out of the way, and moved to actually get out of bed. A distant part of her was amused that it was so easy to wake him up that morning, seeing as he usually seemed willing to sleep through anything, anywhere, if allowed. She hadn’t understood it the first time, had been amused by the sounds whenever Milly or Rivalz or Shirley would try to wheedle him awake through the Student Council meetings. Now, she realized it was likely because he was awake at all hours juggling another persona along with his school one. 

 

_ Can you hold my hand until I fall asleep? _

 

Thinking of it now, perhaps she wasn’t as clingy as she had been the first time around. She hadn’t reacted well, she remembered now, to his absence, and old, familiar nightmares had come back while he was gone. It was the same thing that happened the first few months after his death, rendering her exhausted no matter how often she rested. 

 

“Don’t worry,” he said, tone as gentle as she remembered. He laid a hand atop hers, and she twisted her hand in his grip so that she could hold on as well. “I won’t go away. I promise.”

 

Her grip tightened at the promise, and Nunnally forced a smile. He made the same promise last time, and in the end, broke it. 

 

This time, she wouldn’t let him. 

  
  


— 

  
  


Nunnally, like her brother, didn’t exactly have the perfect attendance record despite spending the majority of her time on campus. Ashford Academy was, for all intents and purposes, a boarding school, although students were allowed to go home during the weekends, or in cases of families who needed them around more, allowed to travel to and from school regularly. 

 

With numerous doctors’ visits and periods of time when she felt too disoriented to attend class, it was a good thing that she lived at school and that teachers were willing to tutor her after hours when needed. It helped when Lelouch would help look over her homework as well, although he claimed that everything she wrote was perfect and well above her age level. 

 

So she didn’t feel too guilty about spending longer than the necessary amount of time with her brother that morning, as he brushed her hair and told her about the latest shenanigans with the student council. She took her time getting to her building, and then just gave her teachers a smile and told them that she hadn’t been feeling very well that morning, and that’s why she missed her first two classes. 

 

Not that it mattered— she could make up any test she might have missed. 

 

After a long and boring history lecture about the founding of Britannia, she could hear Alice come up to her as many of her classmates wandered off for lunch. 

 

“What happened this time?” Her friend asked, sounding both exasperated and a little concerned. 

 

And here, Nunnally knew, was where she would have to deviate from what she knew. 

 

“Alice,” she said, trying to impart the seriousness of what she was about to do in her tone. She moved her head around, and didn’t hear anyone else in the room— it made sense, when it was such a nice day out. Even those not heading toward the cafeteria would be going outdoors while they could to enjoy the sunlight and breeze. “Can I— ask you to do something really important for me?”

 

Immediately, the other girl’s demeanor changed, gaining a more somber tint to her presence. 

 

“Of course you can, Nunnally,” Alice told her, with the same conviction that had her once tell Nunnally in all seriousness that she would keep her safe. “You know I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

 

Yes. Nunnally trusted her, even if she had never been able to test that trust the first time around, having lost her friend to the same takeover that lost her everyone at the Academy. Nunnally dug into the side of her wheelchair, pulling out an envelope she prepared earlier— after Lelouch had gone off to classes, and before her own departure. 

 

“After school today,” she said, “I need you to get this letter to Viceroy Cornelia li Britannia.”

 

“That’s— Nunnally, that’s impossible!” Alice stuttered. “No one is allowed close to the Princess without a very good reason for it. Not to Princess Cornelia, and not to Princess Euphemia…  _ especially _ not after what happened at Lake Kawaguchi.”

 

“I know how to get them to talk to you.” Nunnally revealed, and then hesitated, listening around her once again in case there was someone she missed. It wasn’t likely, not when she was so very good at telling when someone else was in a room with her no matter how hard they hid. But it was good to be cautious, and it wasn’t like she could  _ see _ them right now. “And it’s important. Or else I wouldn’t have asked.”

 

She could feel Alice fidgeting in the seat next to hers. 

 

“ _ Please _ .” She insisted, and then pressed, “There’s no one else I can trust with this.”

 

Nunnally held out her letter, hoping against all hope that Alice would take her request, or else her plans might be drastically delayed. She could feel the other girl’s trepidation, but after a few moments, the letter was taken from her hands, with slim fingers that brushed against her own to let her know it was Alice who took it. 

 

“And do I just— go up to the Viceroy’s palace? Just walk in?” Alice asked, barely above a whisper as if she were discussing a conspiracy theory. 

 

“The first page,” Nunnally informed her. 

 

“...I’m allowed to look at it?”

 

“The rest is in Braille.” Nunnally admitted to her. “But you should be able to read the first page.”

 

There was the sound of papers being shifted out of the envelope— and for this reason, Nunnally hadn’t sealed it— and a blank moment as Alice read through the page.

 

“Are these— song lyrics?” She sounded rather incredulous. 

 

Nunnally nodded. She hadn’t known the first time around, not until years later when Cornelia hummed the same song to her when she was struck with fever, that it was a song known to very few people. A common tune, but lyrics made up by Marianne vi Britannia, who first sang to her son in a desperate attempt to have him go to sleep as a baby when he caught a cold for the very first time. 

 

She never gave it much thought, having known it only as the song that her brother would sing to her when she was ill and needed to know he was there. 

 

“It’s a lullaby,” she confirmed. “And it’s one that Princess Cornelia learned from someone I know. It’ll be easier to ask for her knight— Sir Gilbert Guilford. Tell him you have sensitive information. Use the code on the bottom of the page.”

 

She had been reluctant to write that one out, but it was important, and she very specifically asked Guilford about it in the future. Both he and Cornelia confirmed the code they used for important matters.

 

Alice was smart enough to not read it aloud. “...God. I’m going to get myself arrested.”

 

“You won’t.” Nunnally confirmed. “But you do have to tell Princess Cornelia—” 

 

“I have to  _ what _ now?”

 

“Tell her that no one else is to read that letter.” Nunnally said. “That means she translates it herself if she can’t read it. Well, either her or Princess Euphemia.”

 

Alice seemed to be taking that into consideration, and then asked, very quietly, “Nunnally… is this just about… did you just want to talk to them— because they’re in Japan now?”

 

“It’s not just that.” Nunnally denied. And it wasn’t. It was about her plans, and spending the past few years in Cornelia’s company, and her grief. It was about saving Euphemia’s life, and eventually her brother’s. It wasn’t about the royal family at all at this point. “It’s just— insurance. I’ve had— a very bad feeling lately.”

 

She hesitated, and ducked her head a little, knowing that Alice would lean in to hear her better if she whispered. “Like I’m being watched.”

 

Untrue, but according to her own memories, and to C.C., that was soon to come. 

 

She could almost feel Alice’s grip tightening on the letter. 

 

“Maybe I should stay with you instead.” The other girl said, sounding wary. 

 

Nunnally shook her head. “No. But that’s why I need to get this to them— today, if possible. It’s just a feeling right now, but…”

 

“Your feelings are usually very accurate.”

 

“Yes.” She didn’t want to lie to Alice, but what was one small thing when it came to saving everyone? “I don’t think— there’s any danger right now. But something doesn’t feel right, and I’m— scared. I think something big is coming, and what if that something hurts Miss Sayoko or my brother?”

 

Let her think that Nunnally was safe, and that the danger would be targeted elsewhere. 

 

“That’s why it’s important. Even if… if things go wrong. But I promise, you’ll be safe no matter what. There’s nothing dangerous to you in that letter, and even if they want to detain you to ask questions, you can just say that you were handed the letter by someone else. Make it up, if you want.”

 

She reached out to hold Alice’s hands, feeling the tension in her fingers as they gripped onto her letter. 

 

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this, Alice.” Nunnally told her morosely, and that was when she felt the other girl making a decision. 

 

“No.” Alice told her, voice now determined. “I’m glad that you’re trusting me with this. I won’t let you down, Nunnally. I promise you.”

 

“You could never let me down.” Nunnally told her, and knew that no matter what, Alice would see that letter to Cornelia. 

 

One down. Just… thousands of other things to go. 

  
  


— 

  
  


She found Rivalz after school, after she saw Alice off with a whispered good luck and a squeeze of her hands. Nunnally made her way over to the high school campus afterward, knowing the layout despite rarely going. She was supposed to attend that campus the next year, after all, and her brother had wheeled her around often enough, pointing out where everything was in case she needed to find something. 

 

“Nunnally!” The boy exclaimed cheerfully, genuinely glad to see her, if a little confused. “Are you here to surprise Lelouch with a visit?”

 

“Something like that,” she told him with a smile, tilting her head up in his direction. “It  _ is _ a surprise, but I sort of need your help with it?”

 

Luckily for her, Rivalz had always been a cheerful and excitable boy, and was extremely pleased with the idea that he would be able to help Nunnally with something. 

 

(“People are willing to do a lot for you.” C.C. told her repeatedly during those two weeks. “You’ll have to use that.”)

 

“I’m looking for Milly, too,” she revealed, which seems to increase the boy’s eagerness to help. A joint project with both him and Milly, she knew, meant that Rivalz would be on board just about no matter what. “I might need a lot of help.”

 

Rivalz was happy to help wheel her around the high school campus, doing their best to avoid Lelouch (an easier task than she anticipated, seeing as most of the people they ran into was more than willing to play along and help detain him if he was close, just because Nunnally smiled and raised a finger to her lips as if to let them in on a secret), and finally finding Milly in the third year classrooms working on a project with several other people, although it more looked like she was ordering them around to do each part of the project instead. 

 

She seemed more than happy to help out with whatever Nunnally had in mind, and the three of them ended up heading toward the school library in order to avoid her brother’s curiosity. 

 

“You can just never tell where he’s going to be,” Milly said cheerfully as she pushed Nunnally’s wheelchair, Rivalz following alongside her. “He changes his hiding place a lot, you know! To make sure the teachers won’t find him when he skips class. Whoops, I probably shouldn’t have told his precious little sister that…”

 

As if she didn’t already know. Nunnally would have rolled her eyes, but she gave a wry smile instead. “He never did like doing what people told him to do.”

 

Milly laughed in agreement, loud and boisterous. “Don’t worry, Nunnally! I’m get him used to that yet!”

 

After looking a room from the librarian, feigning intent to study (not that the librarian looked like she believed them), the three of them settled into a small study room and closed the door behind them, pulling out books and papers to go through some homework for the half hour they had the room. 

 

Nunnally herself pulled out several sheets of the paper she typed up early that morning, the braille a comfort to her whenever she passed her fingers over it. 

 

“A few friends helped me come up with this design,” she told them, tracing the braille with one hand and transcribing onto another piece of paper with another, this time in letters that would be legible to them. Her writing, she knew, would not be on par as what was expected of a princess, but to her credit, she had been told that at least people could read it. The paper would have to be large, though, as she had difficulty remembering where to stop when she hit the edge. “We worked on it for a while, and… I wanted to know if you guys can help me with this last step?”

 

They were quiet as she continued to write out directions and sketch the designs, although Milly’s breathing hitched a bit in interest. 

 

“I know it’s early,” she told them, “but I wanted to surprise Lelouch for his birthday....”

 

Milly makes a pitchy cooing sound and draws Nunnally into a hug, while Rivalz exclaimed about the designs that Nunnally was drawing out. 

 

“What  _ is _ all of this? I mean— they look amazing, Nunnally, don’t get me wrong, but… your friends designed this?”

 

“A few I talk to online,” she tried to explain again. “They don’t know who I am, but— they wanted to help, anyway.”

 

It might have been a bit of a stretch, but she drew their attention back with a tap of her pen against the paper. 

 

“We spent a lot of time on this.” She said. “And I’m really excited. But design is one thing, and actually making it is another thing entirely… there are metalworking classes in the high school campus, right? I know it’s a huge task…”

 

“No task is too huge for our Nunnally!” Milly exclaimed cheerfully, still pulling her into a hug. “We do have a workshop here! And there are plenty of students I can talk to… oh, are you sure you wouldn’t want me to ask grandfather for help on this? He’d be very excited, if this project is what I think it is…”

 

“N-nunnally,” Rivalz objected weakly. “Parts of this… they look like a Knightmare Frame…”

 

“It uses the same technology, yes,” Nunnally agreed. “But it’s nowhere near as complex as a Knightmare. For one, it’s a lot smaller, doesn’t use that much power, and—” 

 

“And it wraps around you.” Milly sounded so very excited as she watched Nunnally lay out the designs. “Small and basic enough to let you walk.”

 

“To carry just my weight, yes.” 

 

“It’s  _ ingenious _ .” Milly praised, finally releasing Nunnally to clap her hands together with elation. “Grandfather would definitely be interested! I even know someone else who might love this design—” 

 

Lloyd Asplund, Nunnally knew, would have already been in contact with the Ashford family, although nothing would be finalized yet. But as the designs here were actually his in nature (and Nunnally felt just a little bad for saying they were created by other people), he would definitely be interested in the work. 

 

“And Nunnally, you’re so brilliant! Who are these friends of yours?”

 

She shook her head. “They prefer to remain anonymous for now.”

 

“Suspicious, suspicious,” Milly sang at her, but seemed to drop the topic. “But Lelouch’s birthday is months away still!”

 

“I know,” Nunnally said. She beamed in Milly’s direction. “But I wasn’t sure how long this would take… and if it would work. And I wanted to surprise him— bring him his present myself. He’ll be eighteen, and I want— I want him to know that I couldn’t ask for a better brother, and that he doesn’t have to worry about me as much anymore, so if he wanted to go off to school or work or anything at all… I’ll be okay.”

 

That seemed to stun the other two speechless, and Milly once against grabbed her into a hug. 

 

“But I need a lot of help with this!” Nunnally declared from where she was pressed tightly against an emotional Milly’s shoulder. “I can’t do this myself. Will you guys help me?”

 

“Of course.” Milly breathed out, and Rivalz made a sound of assent beside her. 

 

“But how can I help?” He wondered aloud. “I don’t take metalshop, and don’t know anything about— things like this. I mean, the closest thing I know is how take care of a motorcycle, but I have Nina double checking with me on that. Shouldn’t you be getting her to help you, instead?”

 

“That’s a great idea.” Nunnally told him, because that would keep Nina busy for the next little while as well. “But I also need your help, Rivalz, even if it’s just to distract Lelouch.”

 

“And you can help carry things for us.” Milly declared enthusiastically. “It’s going to take more than one set of hands here! Nunnally, is it alright if I take a copy of these designs? I know you meant to make them in the workshop, but… I genuinely think my grandfather would be interested in seeing these.”

 

Nunnally smiled. It was exactly what she hoped Milly would say. 

 

“Of course you can have that copy.” She told her. “I didn’t want to expect anything, but any help would be amazing.”

 

The original plan had been to manufacture what she needed in the high school classrooms, with the help of various generous souls who might have wanted an excuse to talk to Lelouch later (and Nunnally wasn’t above using her brother for this, especially knowing that he would approve despite his disinclination about being forced to talk with more people than he had to), but the very best options would have been for Lord Ashford (and, to a further extent, Lloyd Asplund) to get involved in this project. It would speed up her timeline a lot, especially since she was well-aware that it would take months of rehabilitation before she could use the frames all day. 

 

The first time around, it had taken six months, although the majority of that had been due to adjustments and upgrades that were already included in these plans. The rest were because while the frames took the majority of her weight and moved her legs for her, it was still far more stimulation than her legs had received for years, no matter the physical therapy. 

 

With all her experience and the technology behind it, she may be able to walk immediately with it, but would be sore within an hour and likely suffer from the pains for the next few weeks. 

 

She had plans that involved being able to move further than her wheelchair would allow her, and she needed those plans started immediately. 

 

They spoke about the surprise for a few minutes further before actually pulling out their homeworks to work on that for the rest of the time. By the time the half hour was up, Milly helped push Nunnally out of the study room and she managed to finish all her homework for the day (and wasn’t it a good thing that middle school had so much less work than what she had to learn to juggle later on?), and was free to continue on her plans. 

 

“Can we talk to Nina about this?” She asked, having twisted in her wheelchair to face Milly easier. 

 

“Of course!” The older girl told her, as Rivalz kept step with both of them. He still seemed somewhat sullen about being kept as the errand boy, but Nunnally knew he was glad to just be included in the plan, and to be working with Milly for another project. “Oh, it’s too bad we can’t include the entire student council in this…”

 

“Shirley wouldn’t be able to keep a secret from Lelouch,” Rivalz joked besides them. “She’d fold like a wet paper towel if she knew and he asked her what we were doing.”

 

“He might not notice.” Nunnally said. 

 

“Yes, that’s right,” Milly laughed. “He still hasn’t even noticed she likes him.”

 

They started gossiping over how her brother seemed oblivious to any of the girls attempting to ask him out, and Nunnally laughed to hear more stories of the normal life that had been ripped away from her. The conversation moved on there to the upcoming festivals that Milly was organizing, and which teachers to avoid the year after. 

 

“Oh,” she told them as they approached the student council room, “I forgot something I had to talk to Miss Sayoko about. Thank you for walking me back. Can you tell Suzaku I’d like to talk to him later?”

 

“Ahh.” That seemed to bring Milly up short. “Suzaku wasn’t at school today. Military duties, I think.”

 

Oh, that was right. Suzaku missed school frequently because of that. Nunnally pursed her lips in thought, and then said, “...Okay. I’ll talk to him when he comes back. I just had a few questions.”

 

Milly seemed to take delight in this. “About how he seems to sneak off with your brother all the time?”

 

“About origami,” Nunnally corrected, having already come up with a cover story for needing to talk to him. But then she frowned, “Wait, they sneak off together?”

 

That only made Milly laugh, and it was Rivalz who had to reassure her, “We usually send Suzaku to find Lelouch whenever he’s skipping, since he’s the fastest out of all of us. Don’t mind Miss President. She wants everything to fit into some epic drama.”

 

“But it would be so  _ interesting _ !” Milly exclaimed, as lively as ever. “They get along so well, and Lelouch usually hates when someone even tries to talk to him, and maybe that’s why he doesn’t seem to notice all the girls asking him out?”

 

“You’ll break Shirley’s heart, Miss Prez.”

 

“What do you think, Nunnally?” Milly asked. “Who’s better for Lelouch: Shirley or Suzaku?”

 

“I think,” Nunnally, a little lost for a moment as she somehow never thought about her brother dating beyond the fear that he would then have less time for her. It hadn’t mattered in the end, not when he was so focused on his goals that he never seemed to see the people around who cared for him. She wouldn’t let that happen this time, though. Nunnally smiled and raised a fist to shake. “I think whoever it is, they’d have to get through me first!”

 

Milly laughed again. “Start with the shovel talk first! I like it.”

 

Rivalz sighed, and that seemed to drop the subject as they opened the door to the student council room and Milly found something else to entertain her. 

 

“Shirley! What’s that— is that a love letter I see? From some dashing young admirer, perhaps? Or maybe it’s from you? Finally going to tell Lelouch—” 

 

“ _ Milly! _ ” Nunnally could hear Shirley sputter, and she smiled as she made her way past the room toward the elevator, feeling for the familiar button that would take her home. She wondered if Sayoko was home yet, and when Alice might call her to tell her how things went— she hadn’t been able to stop tracing the grooves on her wheelchair all day, catching the skin of her fingers on rough edges and surfaces gladly, reminding her that this may be more a dream. 

 

It was hard, now that things were quiet, to go back to a life blind when she had taken it for granted that she would once again be able to see. But simply trying to will her eyes open had done nothing, and attempting for more than a few minutes at a time frustrated her intensely. 

 

The elevator dinged its arrival, and Nunnally tilted her head up as the door opened, and smiled. 

 

“Nunnally,” Lelouch greeted as he stepped out, his voice warm, “I was about to call you.”

 

“Sorry,” she told him. “I went to the library after school to finish homework. Didn’t think it would take so long. Are you on your way to the student council meeting?”

 

“Ah, yes. I wanted to change out of my uniform— someone managed to run into me earlier, and spilled what I think is chocolate milk—” 

 

She spent all morning in a frenzy, writing down all the information she had been told to memorize, and then starting plans for Cornelia, for Alice, for Nina, for Milly… suddenly, after spending half a day without her brother, she found herself relaxing again in his presence, willing to let her plans fall to the wayside just for a little while. 

 

She just wanted to spend more time with him, that was all. 

 

“Maybe I’ll go with you,” she mused aloud as Lelouch continued on his story about the student who had run into him, and he paused for a moment. 

 

“I’m sure it’s just some errands today.” He told her. “Getting paperwork to the appropriate people. You’re welcome if you want to come along, but it won’t be as fun as Milly’s ideas of playing around in the room.”

 

“I’ll come with,” she decided, tiling her head up at him and beaming. “Alice is busy today, and I’m done with homework. I can carry your papers for you if you want.”

 

She couldn’t even figure out what she was going to do originally… oh, right, talk with Sayoko. But that was something she could do later on, as she wasn’t even sure if Sayoko was home yet. Surely she could get a moment alone with the Japanese woman later on, maybe if she could get C.C. to distract her brother somehow. 

 

Her brother chuckled, and seemed to acquiesce as he took over the handle of her wheelchair, taking her back to where she had just left. 

 

“I would love to have your help,” Lelouch told her, and Nunnally turned to him with a smile. “What do you think of spending next Saturday together, then? We’ll have a picnic; maybe invite Suzaku. We haven’t been able to spend time together like that for so long.”

 

“I would love that!” She gushed, clasping her hands together. At most, the first time around, Suzaku had come around for tea, and her brother had been distracted even if he sat with them. To get the attention of both of them, at once… she felt a little guilty, but not only did she want that because she missed them and loved them, but because that would advance her plans if she could already plan for the both of them in the same place as her. 

 

...After the whole scenario with Mao, that was. She’d have to be elsewhere when he came around. 

 

“—why don’t you just ask him yourself? Hmm? What do you think?”

 

The last part of Milly’s question seemed to be directed their way as she and Lelouch opened the door to step through, and there was a moment when Nunnally was going to ask what she was talking about, but was soon interrupted by Shirley’s indignant and aborted shriek. 

 

“I—! Lulu! And Nunna! I thought— I thought the two of you were heading home…”

 

“I just went back to get changed,” Lelouch responded, and Nunnally smiled as she raised her hand. 

 

“I volunteered to come back and help!” She said cheerfully. 

 

That seemed to soften some of Shirley’s panic as she directed her attention toward Nunnally instead, ignoring Milly’s laughter in the background, her own words directed at Lelouch and how vain he was to go back just to get changed, while he told her that she must be a slob if she would stay in stained clothing. 

 

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better, Nunna,” Shirley told her, the panic in her tone reduced significantly into something fonder. “We were all really worried last week.”

 

“I’m much better now,” Nunnally reassured her, and then tilted her head in question. “I saw everyone over the weekend.”

 

“Yes,” Shirley agreed, “but I was a bit caught up in paperwork to talk to you, and I’m sorry about that.”

 

“What did you want done with the paperwork, then, Miss President?” Lelouch asked as he stepped around Nunnally’s wheelchair, letting the two girls catch up. 

 

“Sort those into their respective grade levels, if you would.” Milly’s voice responded cheerfully.

 

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Nunnally exclaimed. “I’m the one who caused you worry, but I’m really alright, and everything’s okay now.”

 

“Oh, Nunna,” Shirley breathed out with a fond note. 

 

There was a shuffling sound and then her brother walked toward her again, and Nunnally lifted her arms, already knowing what was coming from the sound. 

 

“Going to hold the papers for me?” Lelouch asked, amused. 

 

“I’m going to be useful.” Nunnally corrected him, accepting the pile of papers and lowering them to her lap as he walked around her wheelchair again. 

 

“You can stay here, you know,” he told her, “and talk to the others a little more.”

 

She just shook her head. “I want to go with you.”

 

She could tell by his exhale that he was smiling, and once again Milly seemed to be making her cooing noise, voice slightly distorted, likely by the hand she had on her cheek whenever she made a thoughtful statement. 

 

“You two are always so cute,” she said, and then laughed, “Oh, Shirley, what’s with that look? That’s certainly different from all your other ‘looks’ — does someone want to play fam—” 

 

A tackling noise, and Shirley’s indignant, “ _ Milly! _ ” was now halfway across the room where Milly was at previously. 

 

“Right,” Lelouch told Nunnally, apparently ignoring the antics of the other student council members, even as Rivalz yelled in the background about the mountain of paperwork that the two girls toppled over. “Ready to go, then?”

 

She tilted her head toward his voice, smiling widely. Oh, she  _ missed _ this. The noise in the background, her brother’s calm presence next to her, and Milly’s laughter as she attempted to dodge away from Shirley and all her protests. 

 

“Always,” she told him.

  
  


— 

  
  


Nunnally hummed softly as Lelouch pushed her wheelchair out of the clubhouse and onto the sunlit path once again, heading toward the teachers’ offices to drop off the paperwork. As much of a high as the past two weeks were for her, with overwhelming happiness and excitement as she prepared herself to come back— this one elaborate plan that she was putting in motion to save her brother, nothing compared to the calm she felt now, pleasant and sweet as her brother pushed her along the path of fresh smelling grass and sweetly blooming flowers. 

 

She needed to figure out how to talk to him, to tell him about what she knew— whether it was information that she knew what he was hiding, or information she herself was hiding about the future, she wasn’t sure. But she knew they needed to talk at some point. Right now, though, she was content as could be, and now she could understand why he never wanted to disclose his plans to her. 

 

Ashford Academy was like a haven for the two of them, somewhere safe and small and encased in a bubble of normality. She didn’t want to pop that bubble, even knowing what was to come. 

 

No, especially knowing what was to come. 

 

It was a comfortable silence between them, one that Nunnally didn’t feel she had to break, but instead could tilt her head up to enjoy the sunlight as they passed trees full of leaves, leaving little shadows in its wake as they passed by. 

 

_ Dappled light _ . The light and shadow were like a dance underneath her eyelids. 

 

“—Wait! Lulu, Nunna, wait!”

 

She turned her head toward the sound of Shirley in the distance, the footfalls getting closer with each second as Lelouch stopped to wait for her, and Nunnally just tilted her head in question. Shirley must have been in quite the rush, though, as she sounded far more out of breath than she normally might, traversing a little distance like that. Either Milly really had made her fight for whatever she wanted to say before, or she managed to stumble out of the student council room much later than the two of them. 

 

“Wait, wait,” she gasped out, now much closer to her. Nunnally listened as she approached them, and then paused for breath, sounding slightly lower now— bent over? “I just— Lulu! The papers you took— was there an envelope in that stack?”

 

Lelouch didn’t answer, but Nunnally held up the stack of papers in offering for Shirley to look through them. 

 

“Oh, Nunna, sorry, I forgot you had them— yes! That’s the one!”

 

She felt as Shirley quickly snatched something off the top of the pile, and then lowered the papers once it seemed that they wouldn’t be rifled through. 

 

“A letter?” Lelouch asked her, not so much curious but narrating for Nunnally as he normally did. Nunnally tilted her head up. Was this the same letter that Milly had poked fun at earlier?

 

“A love letter?” She asked with a mischievous smile. 

 

“Ahh— no! No! It’s just— my dad lives away from us for his work, and he’d sometimes send me stuff like…” She hesitated a moment, making an uncertain noise, and Nunnally wondered at the nervousness in her tone. As the awkward pause continued, though, she realized what it was about. 

 

“Oh,” Nunnally improvised, and then lifted hand for the motor on her wheelchair. “Hmm, how about I’ll— um. Keep going first? Get some of the papers out if Shirley needs to talk to you?”

 

Her brother made a questioning noise, and Shirley let out a relieved, “Nunnally…”

 

But that relief was gone in an instant, long before Nunnally could actually make her way out of this awkward situation. 

 

“It’s okay,” Shirley said, this time her tone full of false confidence. There were some rustling noises, and her brother made a startled sound before Shirley continued all in one breath, “I have an extra ticket to the opera tomorrow night and I’d like you to come with me, Lulu!”

 

And as quick as she arrived, she ran away again, leaving Lelouch and Nunnally to their respective confusion and amusement. 

 

“Well.” Lelouch finally said. “I… don’t know what that was about.”

 

“I think she’s very brave.” Nunnally commented. Milly had been teasing Shirley about her crush for  _ years _ now, enough for her to have heard the ins and outs of it despite Shirley’s embarrassed vehemence otherwise. It was a miracle her brother never figured it out, really. “Did she leave the ticket with you?”

 

“Yes.” He still sounded so confused, enough to make Nunnally giggle. “She didn’t give me enough time to say no. I’ll be busy tomorrow. Honestly, she should find someone else to go with her.”

 

“But you like the opera, don’t you?”

 

“Do  _ you _ want to go, Nunnally?” Lelouch asked, and she got the impression that he was considering the ticket he had been handed. 

 

“Maybe I’ll be busy, too,” she told him with a mysterious smile, and then tilted her head up at him. “Besides, I’m sure Shirley knows who she wants to go with.”

 

Lelouch seemed to sigh a moment, but then started walking again, pushing her wheelchair along. “I’ll have to talk to her later, then. Honestly. If she just asked if I was busy, then I could have told her to go with someone else. I don’t understand her sometimes.”

 

“Oh,  _ Lelouch. _ ” Nunnally shook her head. Had she really been this naive back at this age? Maybe it was because she was mentally older than him now, with the added years, but it both amused and saddened her to hear him so  _ young _ . A fourteen year old Nunnally would have protested, albeit quietly, the idea of her brother dating anyone— Shirley or not. Now, at a mental age of nearly twenty one, she could hardly believe that he never noticed just how long it took Shirley to work up the courage to ask him out. 

 

“What?” He asked her, clearly confused. 

 

“Nothing!” She sang back at him, and laughed at his sound of bewilderment. “...I think you should go, though. It’s at night, right? It might make Shirley really happy.”

  
  


— 

  
  


“Sorry, Nunnally,” Alice called her back much later, after she had dinner with Sayoko and her brother, and then excused herself to work on her origami. Sayoko had been gone during the day to buy groceries and a small surprise— beautifully embossed sheets of paper with exquisite images that Nunnally could feel with her fingertips, smooth and glossy in texture. Enough to keep Nunnally for a few days, she said with a smile on her tone, and Nunnally gave her excited thanks before claiming that she would be taking the origami to her room now because she wanted to make a surprise for her brother. 

 

“It didn’t work?” Nunnally asked quietly, a hand to her phone as she huddled in the corner of her room furthest away from the door. She had her papers strown out around her, in case anyone walked in, but was more working on keeping track of notes she had written down. 

 

“It worked,” Alice told her, “...I think. I got detained for a while because I didn’t manage to leave fast enough. They wanted to know who wrote the letter. Well. The song. They hadn’t translated any of the other pages yet, and I got out before they got the chance.”

 

“They?” Nunnally questioned. 

 

Her friend was quiet for a moment. “Sir Guilford… and Princess Euphemia.”

 

Nunnally sharp intake of breath was easily audible over the phone. 

 

“I told them I didn’t know anything,” Alice told her. “And I went in disguise, so…”

 

“A disguise?” She asked, because she hadn’t asked Alice to do that— should have, but never thought about it. Her plan had been so broad she glazed over the little details, and now she realized it would have been very dangerous indeed if Alice had gone as herself and everything went south. 

 

“Yeah, I went as a boy.” Alice sounded quite proud of herself. “So they won’t know to find me. Told them that my friend’s mom needed a favor from me, just to pass along that better. Not sure if they believed me, but I got out before they could get into too much detail. Even if they wanted to find me again, they won’t be able to. I gave a false name and everything. Wore gloves. Don’t worry, Nunnally! They’ll get nothing from me if you don’t want to be found.”

 

“...Thank you for doing this for me, Alice,” Nunnally told her, hoping to infuse as much genuine gratitude as she could into her words. “I know it could have been— really dangerous for you.”

 

“Whatever you need,” Alice told her. “I’ll get done. You can count on me.”

 

What had she ever done to deserve loyalty like that? This time, Nunnally vowed, this time she would never lose it. 

 

“If you would like,” Nunnally offered, “do you want to come with me tomorrow? I— in my letter. I told them I would meet them.”

 

There was a hesitation before a very firm, “ _ Yes _ . Are you sure about this, Nunnally? They’re— they’re royalty, and you don’t know them anymore. Who knows what they’ve been up to all this time. You could be putting yourself in danger.”

 

“That’s a chance I have to take.” Nunnally told her over the phone. “But… I don’t think I’d be in danger. I know them, and they’re… they’re good people. I think there’s been a misunderstanding, and I want to correct it before everything gets out of control.”

 

“...If that’s your decision,” Alice said reluctantly. 

 

“It is.” Nunnally told her. “And… thank you. Again. I couldn’t have done this without you. I can’t do anything without other people’s help…”

 

“No,” Alice said. “That’s not true. Because I’m always going to be there. As long as you need me. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

 

Nunnally hummed in assent, feeling a warmth well up in her chest. 

 

“Absolutely. Forever.”


	10. Warrior and Puppet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, I spent most of this week playing Sims4 instead of getting more writing done, welp. Fun side, I made some of the Code Geass characters on Sims! February's going to be a pretty busy month... I seem to have alternating months like that. Busy December, then February, next April... but the regular updates should continue for a while yet! The song mentioned in this chapter that I used is Sleepsong by Secret Garden, mostly because I was playing that on repeat while writing during NaNo.

“Don’t forget the opera with Shirley tonight!” Nunnally called out to her brother after he brushed her hair and stumbled off to school sleepily, the high school classes starting a full half hour before the middle school ones. 

 

Sayoko’s curiosity was more than obvious. “Opera?”

 

“He’s got a date,” Nunnally admitted in a conspiring voice, and the two of them shared a laugh as she continued, “I don’t think he even realizes.”

 

The school hours passed normally, with the exception of when Milly texted her excitedly about her grandfather’s willingness to take on her project and that there were already people looking through the designs she provided and what an  _ innovation _ this would be. How it could revolutionize how people saw Knightmare Frames forever, and how it could be utilized in areas other than war, to  _ help _ rather than hurt for once. 

 

Nunnally sent back her assent to meet Milly during lunch for measurements, as the older girl wanted to double check everything since there were already people who might be making the frame for her as soon as all the measurements were out of the way. It wouldn’t take more than a few days, Milly enthused, not with her grandfather’s backing. 

 

It was Alice who wheeled her toward the high school campus during their lunch break, armed with a pass from their teachers, and Milly who met them with enthusiasm at the clubhouse. 

 

“Your friend?” Milly greeted politely, and Nunnally realized that they had only met a handful of times. 

 

“This is Alice,” Nunnally told her, and then twisted her in chair for introductions. “Alice, Milly. You’ve met a few times before but Milly has a tendency of forgetting people if she doesn’t see them for more than a few days at a time.”

 

“I can’t be expected the memorize the names of everyone on campus,” Milly excused herself lightly.

 

“Yes, that’s right,” Nunnally agreed. “She doesn’t mean to be rude or anything.”

 

“So mean,” Milly chided, although she sounded amused, “you’re sounding more and more like your brother every day.”

 

“That’s my goal!” Nunnally told her cheerfully, although, no, it wasn’t. 

 

“Well, so long as your goal isn’t to skip as much school as him. I swear, he’s never in class when I’m looking for him…”

 

They got through the measurements with minimal fuss, with Alice doing most of the measuring for her, as things got a little awkward when Nunnally had to find a way to balance herself up so so that they could get the lengths that were needed when she stood up straight, surprising Alice with new information. 

 

“You can— move your legs?” The young girl asked, stunned. 

 

“A little,” Nunnally admitted, resting most of her weight on the shelf arranged at just her height, as Milly helped her adjust her feet so that they would face forward the way it should. “My— accident, it damaged most of the nerves on my legs, and only a part of my spine. I can still feel my legs most of the time, and I can move just a little, but… nowhere near enough to hold my own weight. Doctors said I got lucky, and that for spinal injuries, it could have been a lot worse.”

 

Damaged nerves, torn ligaments, disconnected muscle tissue… Nunnally had long since stopped being embarrassed about the information, although her brother continued to hold high hopes that she could heal from the injuries one day. 

 

“And these frames will take most of the weight for her,” Milly said to Alice, enthusiasm coloring her voice. “Ingenious, really. It might even help her heal— without regular exercise, her muscles will have atrophied even with regular physical therapy. If we can help her walk regularly, then there’s a chance to train her muscles to heal better than anything else so far.”

 

“That’s if this works,” Nunnally said demurely. 

 

“We’ll  _ make _ it work!” Milly declared.

 

“And if this— then Nunnally will really be able to walk again?” Alice asked, strangely quiet. Enough that Nunnally frowned a bit, and looked down to where she could hear her friend, wondering just what she was thinking. 

 

“Not just her,” Milly told her. “If this project works, then we can present it— get funding… we might be able to help a lot more people with muscular or spinal injuries. It could be the beginning of a new era in medicine and prosthetics.”

 

Alice stayed strangely quiet through the rest of the session, and then through the rest of lunch as they ate their sandwiches as quickly as possible, and then even through the afternoon classes as Nunnally continued to turn her head toward her friend with worry, hoping that if she faces Alice enough, or perhaps if Alice noticed her worry, then the other girl would share what was bothering her. 

 

Instead, the teachers gave her several warnings for not paying attention in class, and Nunnally huddled into herself as she felt several of her classmates stare and giggle. 

 

It wasn’t until the last bell rang that Nunnally even had the opportunity to speak with Alice again, as she threw her books back into her bag and slung it over the back of her wheelchair before making her way over to Alice’s seat. 

 

“Are we,” why was she so nervous about this? “Still going… today?”

 

“Of course!” It was like a switch, how quickly Alice seemed to get her energy back. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

With that confirmation, they headed back to the clubhouse first to get changed. It was better to go in somewhat inconspicuous clothing rather than their school uniforms, even if Nunnally knew she wouldn’t be very inconspicuous at all, until Alice admitted to her quietly that she managed to procure a standard wheelchair, something less visible than the ornate and sturdy ones that she had, but also meant that she wouldn’t have the control to guide herself around. 

 

“It’s up to you,” Alice told her. “I’ll be with you through the whole thing, but it’s good to know you can get away by yourself if you need to.”

 

“I trust you,” Nunnally said after a period of thought. It did unnerve her just a little bit to be so helpless, to be trapped in a substandard seat and control where it went only with the meager strength in her arms, especially since she couldn’t see, either. But the meeting was supposed to be safe, and she already asked Sayoko earlier to scout out the location and provide back-up. While she wasn’t exactly weak, she was unused to pushing herself around, and it likely showed.

 

After getting changed into a more casual blouse and skirt combination, with her hair tied up and out of the way under a hat that Alice fit carefully over her head, and sunglasses settled over her eyes (which amused Nunnally greatly, but Alice insisted), she waited a few minutes as Alice got changed into the disguise she must have donned the day before. 

 

“Are you ready?” Alice asked her, and Nunnally could only nod, feeling a thickness well up in her throat as she realized— this was it. She was going to change everything. If things went according to plan… she already  _ had _ . 

 

“Ready.” She told Alice, and the two of them set out, away from the safety of Ashford Academy. 

 

This, Nunnally thought with excitement, balling her hands up into fists as Alice pushed her down the street, the two of them too nervous for small talk, this was it. The beginning of a new timeline, because after this there was no way that things would stay the same. 

 

They made their way down the streets of the Tokyo Settlement, Alice making sure to veer her away from anything that might sound like a conflict or aggression. It was disheartening to hear, even in the middle of the settlement where Britannians deemed it ‘civilized’, the amount of belittlement and derisive laughter that signaled where they might have passed an Honorary Britannian trying to go about their day. 

 

It made her sick to her stomach, really, hearing random snippets of snide comments and snickering, even as they passed no acts of violence. How had she managed to ignore that the last time around? After hearing, seeing, a world without such blatant racism, it felt like everything changed for her. 

 

Luckily, they weren’t out for too long through the streets and transit system, the two of them not saying a word to each other on their way as reached the cafe in which Nunnally had arranged the meeting. 

 

It was at a central location, the middle of at least four separate schools and therefore a popular locale with children and teenagers which meant it was always busy during the after school hours. It would make things easier for a bit of chaos should they need it, and it helped that the cafe had private rooms in the back to easier allow for study groups and meetings, not quite soundproofed but still nearly impossible to eavesdrop from considering the noise in the main area. 

 

They approached the counter, and Nunnally whispered a few instructions into Alice’s ear. 

 

“Room for Nemo,” Alice told the person behind the counter, and then listed a few drinks. “The rest of our group will be in a little later.”

 

It was entirely possible the Sir Guilford scouted the location before they got there, despite her instructions not to, but that was alright. Nunnally could feel a familiar calm in the sea of excited and laughing kids, and she smiled as Alice wheeled her toward the booked room. 

 

Her friend took a moment to look around the room before she wheeled Nunnally in and closed the door behind them. There was a stale quality to the air that told of the lack of ventilation, despite the warm scents of various drinks that lingered throughout the room, and a muffled quiet from what must be plain, bare walls and flat fluorescent lighting. Alice’s footsteps echoed awkwardly in a way that made Nunnally tilt her head in curiosity, too used to the grand rooms at Ashford Academy with French windows and the sharp click of shoes on wooden floors. 

 

Alice made a noise of disapproval, and then explained, “The blinds in here don’t work.”

 

“There are windows?” Nunnally asked, moving her head in an imitation of looking around. 

 

“Not windows— but panels of glass by the doors. Easier for us to tell when someone is approaching the room, but that also means that others can look in from the right angle, and complete privacy is out. Here, let me help you— the chairs here don’t look very comfortable, but they’ll do for now.”

 

Alice wheeled her to a side— sharp turn right, and the wheels of the unfamiliar wheelchair made a protesting noise. The movement was still familiar enough to her that she reached out to feel for the chair, frowning at the cheap plastic grain underneath her fingertips, ringed by cold hollow metal. She didn’t expect any differently, of course, being that this was just a budget-friendly cafe, but she did linger on the textures a little longer before she moved to push herself out of her wheelchair and slip into the plastic seat with a bit of extra effort as Alice held the chair steady for her. 

 

There were a few metallic sounds as Alice folded up the wheelchair afterwards, and then hid it under the table in front of Nunnally as she shifted and adjusted to the cool, hard seating and smoothed down her skirt around her thighs. 

 

The table was a cheap, laminated wood that felt cool to the touch with various dents that spoke of enthusiastic wear and tear, likely from teenagers with a little too much energy rather than the natural deterioration of age. 

 

“Are you going to be okay?” Alice asked once more, sounding tense. She pulled out another of the plastic and metal chairs with a dull screech against the floors, and sat down, the rustling of her clothes barely a whisper against the thump as she threw her weight forward. “If they charge in here, we’d be overwhelmed. There’s only one way in or out. I might be able to slip away again, but…”

 

“It’ll be fine.” Nunnally told her, leaning forward toward Alice’s voice and reaching out to feel for her friend’s hand to give her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to put you in more danger. I just wanted you here with me.”

 

At the words, Alice squeezed her hand back. 

 

“Will you tell me about what upset you earlier?” Nunnally asked, now that they were settled and waiting for the other party to arrive. With the amount of kids outside the room and the various schools, she hoped they would blend in a little more in their casual clothing, and that meant Ashford Academy would the lower on the list of schools to search if the meeting did indeed turn— sour. She didn’t even think anyone from Ashford would frequent this cafe, seeing as they were too posh and tended to have their own establishments either on campus, or just off it. 

 

“...Upset?” Alice seemed genuinely confused for a moment. “I wasn’t— oh. No. I wasn’t upset.”

 

“Is it about the frame?” Nunnally asked, because she couldn’t quite believe that. “I know I didn’t tell you about it beforehand, but to be honest, it’s still in very early stages and I wanted you to know as soon as the designs were finalized—” 

 

“I’m not upset,” Alice repeated, although this time she did sound more honest. “I just…” There were a few reverberating, echo-y taps that Nunnally recognized as the other girl tapping her fingers on the table, a habit she had when she leaned forward and rested her chin in one hand with the other hand restless, thinking of something that made her forget her surroundings just a little bit. 

 

Nunnally waited patiently for her friend to gather her thoughts. 

 

“I just… think it’s amazing, that’s all.” Her tone was rather subdued, and wistful. “It’s a great idea. And I hope it works.”

 

It all sounded like the truth, yet there was something about that tone that made Nunnally feel like she was missing something. There was something bothering Alice about it, even if she really did hope that Nunnally would walk again. 

 

“Then is there—” 

 

A knock on the door interrupted her words, and then the thin hollow wood door opened and Nunnally turned her face toward it. 

 

“Chocolate caramel macchiato?” Asked an unfamiliar and a little tired voice, “And— ginger white tea with side of milk?”

 

“Yeah, that’s us.” Alice spoke up, and pushed herself up from her seat with a creaking protest from her chair to take the order off the waitress’s hands. She thanked the tired lady politely, and took the two drinks to the table, the ginger tea set before Nunnally with an audible scrape of the paper cup. 

 

“Careful, it’s hot,” Alice told her as Nunnally closed her hands delicately around the cardboard cozy of the cup. “There’s two containers of cream, just to your left. It’s unopened, so you don’t have to worry about knocking anything over.”

 

Nunnally was going to thank her when she was interrupted once more by a knock, although this time the door hadn’t even been closed yet. 

 

“Is this—” And oh. That hesitant tone was— it was so familiar. Sweet. Gentle. Nunnally found her attention drawn to that voice immediately, almost forgetting the hot drink in her hands. “...Nemo, right?”

 

Nunnally could distantly hear other footsteps next to the voice, but it was hard when the noise of the cafe outside the room was nearly deafening when she strained to listen. What must have been dozens of kids, all talking loudly and laughing and moving around… 

 

“Yes.” She said, dipping her head in assent and a slight bow. “That’s us.”

 

Footsteps entering the bare, echoing room, and another voice, even more familiar, demanded, “You have information for us.”

 

And it was just like Cornelia to cut straight to the chase, too impatient for niceties and too haughty for greetings. 

 

Two more sets of footfalls, both with military position, before the door behind them closed. Four people, then. If Nunnally had to guess, it would have been Euphemia, Cornelia, Guildford, and… a more heavyset man, it seemed. Confident, precise, and… she tried to recall the events that Cornelia had confided in her. Andreas Darlton, maybe? It would make sense for Cornelia to bring the General of her Glaston Knights. 

 

She had no doubts that the last man, likely General Darlton, had been assigned to keep Euphemia safe at all costs should anything happen. 

 

Whatever disguise Alice had approved of must have worked, at least a little, since by the sounds of their movement, not only did they not feel threatened, but they didn’t seem to recognize her. 

 

“You,” Cornelia said scathingly, although the words were directed towards Alice, “you’re that brat from yesterday.”

 

...And apparently, Alice had left out a few details about what happened. 

 

“Yeah?” Alice responded, her voice just a little deeper than usual, and infused with a mocking arrogance and a strange, barely there accent. “What, a few vases not worth what I gave you? I wasn’t the one who broke that door!”

 

A lot of details, then.

 

There was a derisive and very unladylike snort from Cornelia, who didn’t seem to take offense other than the low-level irritability that she tended to give those who she didn’t think were worthy of her time. A sharp screech of a chair pulled out from the table and the shifting as a body was dropped into it, followed by a much quieter movement of another chair being sat upon, and she said, “Talk. Where did you hear those lyrics?”

 

Euphemia was quiet, but Nunnally could feel her intense and inquisitive gaze. The younger princess definitely already suspected something— perhaps even guessed her identity, based on how cautious and hopeful just her very presence seemed to be. 

 

“Where did  _ you _ hear those lyrics?” Nunnally asked instead, straightening her back and smiling coolly. “Surely you must have read the whole letter.”

 

Cornelia must have bristled at the attitude, because it was Euphemia who answered, “Please. If you know what happened to them— if you met them, seven years ago…”

 

That was what she had written in the letter— information about two children seen during the invasion of Japan, and their progress before and during the war. 

 

She hadn’t dared to write in a letter what happened to those two children afterward. 

 

“I’ve met the boy before.” Nunnally said, and then turned her head and gestured a hand toward Alice, “and she’s met the girl.”

 

Euphemia was definitely more perceptive than she let on, Nunnally thought, as the young princess leaned over the table, shifting in such a way she could hear the rustling of her dress, too light to be a gown of an Imperial Princess, but far too full to be made of anything other than materials provided a princess of the Empire. 

 

A disguise, then. She wasn’t surprised. They would all have to be in disguise in order to walk around the Settlement unharassed. 

 

“Where?” Cornelia demanded, her voice cutting. “ _ When? _ ”

 

“And how can we be sure you aren’t lying?” Guilford’s voice cut in, as apprehensive as his princess. 

 

She didn’t have any solid proof to give them— not when all their belongings had been lost during the invasion of Japan, not when she had been carried by her brother and Suzaku to safety, and knew better than to store valuables on herself when they were already weighed down by a little girl on their backs. When the Ashford family came for her and Lelouch, they had nothing but the clothes on their backs— no trinkets, no signs of the life they came from before left at all. 

 

All she had were her knowledge and memories, and she could have drawn a copy of the Aries Villa if she so desired, but Nunnally didn’t feel the need to argue evidence when she was living proof herself. 

 

That is, if Cornelia would accept the proof. She would be the only one Nunnally needed to convince. 

 

“You must have known,” Nunnally said, “the people they were staying with. Surely they would have more answers than me.”

 

“If that were the case, you would not have lured us here.” Cornelia dismissed, her tone speaking of her impatience. “You know something none of them do.”

 

“But did you look into it?” Nunnally asked. She could feel Alice tense next to her, their drinks untouched even as Nunnally smoothed fingers over the hot surface of the cardboard cozy. 

 

This time, it was Darlton’s voice that boomed: “Late Prime Minister Kururugi died during the war. All his household staff perished, and his most known associate— Kyoshiro Tohdoh, is a known terrorist and eluding capture.”

 

“And others?” Nunnally asked. 

 

“Denying their connection and any information they might have.” Cornelia cut in sharply. “Every single rumored associate of Kururugi Genbu claims they lost contact when them once the war began.”

 

The harsh words made Nunnally realized that at some point, Cornelia might have at least sat Suzaku down to interrogate him about Lelouch and Nunnally as well. 

 

And not him, nor anyone else Cornelia managed to get her hands on, admitted anything. 

 

Her brother would claim it the honor and tenacity of the Japanese people; that they were right to not give in to their oppressors, even if it meant sneering in their faces. Nunnally just imagined a steely determination and odd sense of loyalty. Cornelia must have been frightening, and revealing the information must have meant a better deal for these people, but none of them said anything. 

 

Euphemia stayed suspiciously silent. At this point, Nunnally was sure that Cornelia had her suspicions too, especially if she was being so unusually cordial with strangers. She must have suspected something, but kept up the brusqueness in order to not get her hopes up. 

 

“And what do you think happened?” Nunnally inquired. 

 

A fist slammed onto the table, hard enough for Nunnally to feel the vibrations of it against the liquid in her cup. 

 

“Stop playing games!” Cornelia demanded, and there was something raspy in her voice, tormented and steely. Alice pushed herself away from the table at the same time, standing immediately against the threat display, and the two knights behind the princesses responded in kind from what Nunnally could hear, even against a little girl. “You know what happened, you called us here, we’ve met your demands. What do you want? A reward? What should I promise you for answers?”

 

She didn’t mean to torment Cornelia like that, or scare Alice, or anything of that sort. But she needed to  _ know _ . To be sure. 

 

“Their safety.” Nunnally said, pretending that the noise and tension hadn’t spiked her heart rate. 

 

“They’re alive?” Euphemia spoke up, her voice high and hopeful, words coming quick. “You know this? You’re sure? Where are they?  _ How _ are they? Are they okay?”

 

She couldn’t see the expression on Cornelia’s face, but it must have been something that would prompt Guilford to act as he did, to draw the sword he must have hidden on his person, if the sound of steel sliding from sheath was anything to go by. 

 

Alice was in action that very second, faster than Nunnally could have comprehended, and faster than anyone in the room realized— fast enough to stun all of them, even Nunnally, for the seconds it took for her to jump over the table and kick Guilford down, the sound of bodies slamming on the floor and the grunt of a breath exhaled the only thing that alerted Nunnally of what might have happened. 

 

“Stop!” Euphemia was already crying out, sounding shocked and dismayed. “Stop it!”

 

And for a moment, Nunnally thought she made a terrible mistake— that she pitted her best friend against a grown man and sworn knight, armed and trained to kill at a moment’s notice. She imagined that Alice wouldn’t be able to do anything, and that Darlton would come to Guilford’s aid in moments, best case scenario restraining Alice, and worst case scenario killing her. 

 

If that happened, they might cut Nunnally down too before she could protest. 

 

(And if that happened, Sayoko would have killed the remaining princesses within the room from where she was watching and waiting, likely at a seat the perfect angle to see into the room.)

 

“Don’t you dare threaten her!” Alice was crying out, the sounds of struggle snapping Nunnally out of her terrible thoughts. “I knew this was a mistake! She should never have contacted you—!” 

 

“Alice!” Nunnally didn’t know how to stop her friend, didn’t want to acknowledge that she miscalculated, and she couldn’t ascertain what was going on or where she was in relation to what was happening. A hand pushed away her drink, a better reflex than taking it with her as she flailed at the top of the table for reassurance, needing to know her friend was okay. She could feel the cup turn over violently, spilling scalding liquid all over the dented table as she panicked. 

 

_ Did I make a mistake? _ Nunnally couldn’t help but fear.  _ Did I risk Alice’s life, after all? _

 

A grunt, and thudding noise, and heavy boots, and suddenly there was a foreign hand on her shoulder, heavy and large, and Nunnally tensed even as the sounds of fighting stopped immediately. 

 

“Let go if you don’t want anything to happen to her,” Darlton’s voice sounded, having already deduced that Alice would stop when presented with a threat to Nunnally. 

 

And in that moment, Nunnally knew exactly how to respond. 

 

“And you should kindly direct your attention to the glass,” she said to Darlton coldly, even if she didn’t indicate that she was speaking to him. “And the lady looking right at you.”

 

It took a second, but he must have seen exactly as she thought, as his hand tensed on her shoulder. 

 

“What is it?” Euphemia asked, voice small and hesitant, and it sounded like she was moving to try and see as well. 

 

“Don’t.” Cornelia snapped out, now sounding furious. A moment later, her voice was directed toward Nunnally. “So this was a trap. You’ll never get out. My knights have surrounded the entire street.”

 

Of course she did, even if Nunnally had written very specifically to limit the amount of people she brought. She had known from the beginning that Euphemia would never let herself be left behind if she found out about the letter, and that Cornelia would bring Guilford with her. 

 

“It’s not a trap,” and now  _ she _ was getting irritated, because why was it always like this when dealing with the rest of the royal family? “But if you think I came without back-up when you’re bringing your knights, then I must say that you think very little of me and my survival.”

 

She made a sharp motion with her hand to express her disapproval, one she might not have known about the first time in her current place in time, but one she had seen videos of her brother using to express his own vehemence. It was a common thing, she found, for the royal family to be emotive and expressive with their body language, in a manner that was almost over the top.

 

“And if you think this is a  _ trap _ ,” the word left all manners of distaste in her mouth, “then you would never get past my brother.”

 

That seemed to firmly confirm things for Euphemia, if the little gasp was any indication. 

 

“All that I asked,” Nunnally continued, suddenly angry not at herself and her own miscalculation and her own tendency to trust too easily, but the fact that her sister couldn’t follow simple instructions without resorting to threats of violence, “was that you meet me with a limited amount of your most trusted subordinates, and I would consider telling you what I know. I have made no demands, no threats…”

 

“Nunnally?” Euphemia breathed out.

 

It was already far too late to take back her actions. Nunnally raised her chin, doing her best to look both assured and disappointed. 

 

“Yes.” She said, not bothering to either take off her sunglasses or the cap on her head. What would that matter, anyway? “Although I suppose I have my answer now.”

 

While the others in the room floundered over the sudden reveal, and Nunnally’s apprehension rose as the silence continued and she couldn’t  _ read _ any of them, Euphemia of all people seemed the very first person to react. 

 

She took several hesitant steps forward, around the table, ignoring Cornelia’s panicked hiss of, “Euphemia!” as a warning for her to stop, past Alice and Guilford, and kneeling next to Nunnally. 

 

“I knew it,” was Euphemia’s watery voice, and she sniffled while Nunnally held herself still and turned her head in Euphemia’s direction, as if studying her. “I knew it, I just knew it. I knew you couldn’t be dead, I knew Lelouch would have gotten you out, no matter what happened—” 

 

And now she was openly crying, enough that Nunnally couldn’t help but tense up her jaw at the flood of emotions that washed over her at the face of Euphemia’s grief and relief. A hesitant hand reached for her own, and Nunnally could feel Euphemia’s slender fingers circling around her, trembling and cold, before holding on desperately. 

 

“It’s not what you think,” Euphemia was babbling, even as she sniffled quietly between every few words, “It’s not. I promise. Cornelia is just overprotective, you know that… or maybe you don’t. But she is, and that’s why she brought all the knights. She didn’t let them come in with us, though! I really wanted to come, and she really wanted to keep me safe, but she also really wanted to know— You _ are _ safe with us, I promise! You’re not— we’re not here to threaten you, or, or…” 

 

She stopped with a sniffle, her voice wobbling and her hands shaking, and Nunnally felt so bad at the very moment knowing that she caused Euphie to feel like this. Euphemia had always been nothing but kind to her, and she sounded like her whole world could be ripped away from her at any moment, and felt like she was too scared to do anything more than lightly hold onto Nunnally’s hand, to give her the freedom to pull away, but also desperate to keep that hold. 

 

She couldn’t back down, though. 

 

“I have to make  _ sure _ .” Nunnally insisted, although her voice was wobbling as well, as Euphie squeezed her hand. No matter what, she had to stick to her story, the one that had been written out beforehand. Don’t reveal too much. But don’t leave them with nothing. “I wanted to talk to you. But you’re here for  _ war. _ You’re always here for war.”

 

“What?” Euphemia sounded so bewildered there. “Of course not— Nunnally—” 

 

The sound of heels across the strange linoleum-esque floors pulled both their attentions away, and this time it was accompanied by a more familiar staccato of footsteps (Alice), who seemed to have deemed Guilford inconsequential and returned to Nunnally’s side, shoving Darlton’s stunned hand away. Nunnally couldn’t see it, but she could easily imagine Alice’s protective stance hovering behind her chair, and the glare she must be giving to Cornelia, just daring her to do something. 

 

It might have been a funny thought at any other time— little Alice, who couldn’t be that much bigger than Nunnally herself, fearlessly facing down not only two princesses of the Empire, but also two knights— all  much older, bigger, and stronger than her. 

 

“We came to find the  _ truth _ .” Cornelia breathed, hesitant in a way that contrasted the way her voice held such anger just a minute ago. She sounded like she dared not be any louder for fear of shattering some ephemeral dream. Slowly, slow enough that Nunnally could feel the movements coming toward her and hear Alice’s snarl of warning, hands delicately lifted off the oversized sunglasses off her face. 

 

Euphemia’s hand in her own turned and her grip tightened a moment. 

 

“Don’t,” Alice suddenly spoke up, more brusque than Nunnally had ever heard from her. “I don’t trust you.”

 

She tilted her head up at her friend somewhat bewilderedly. 

 

“And who are you?” Cornelia asked, apparently stunned out of her daze by Alice. She sounded wary, and a little distrusting, but not as angry or impatient as she did before. 

 

Alice didn’t respond, but Nunnally could just imagine the face that she must have made. 

 

“She’s my friend,” Nunnally responded for her. “And she took a risk in coming with me. In delivering my letter for you.”

 

“I’m here to keep Nunnally safe.” Alice said, dropping the deeper tone that she had taken before completely. “From anyone.”

 

That seemed to win an amused sound from Cornelia, something that seemed grudgingly approving. 

 

“And,” Cornelia continued, apparently heeding Alice’s warning despite her disdain. “You said… about your brother… is Lelouch…?”

 

“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Nunnally admitted, feeling abashed but at the same time not willing to give too much yet. All they had to know until she could confirm things was that she came prepared, and that she wasn’t about to let them just walk all over her— Cornelia still hadn’t confirmed their safety, and Nunnally was willing to wait to get that confirmation in triplicate before she moved any further. 

 

Apparently that confirmation of his continued survival alongside hers was enough for Cornelia to discard Alice’s glare, if the menacing sound from the girl was anything to go by, and her sister— with such a fearsome reputation that she was known as the Witch of Britannia, the Goddess of Victory, the Warrior Princess… Cornelia leaned in and wrapped her arms gently around Nunnally, even before Euphemia could manage to do so. 

 

She didn’t dare— didn’t dare hug back yet, her form still and unresponsive under her sister’s, but oh, she wanted to. A part of her wondered if she couldn’t have both: both her brother, and her other siblings as well, and whether she really thought this through enough. It was easier in the future when there were so few of her family members left, so that they wasn’t anyone to choose from. They all had to stick together. But right now, thinking upon it even as Cornelia enveloped her in a familiar and warm hug, there were far too many variables for her. Too many siblings. Not to mention the current Emperor.

 

( _ “Don’t trust the past me,” C.C. told her in the future. Her cryptic words weren’t to be explained, no matter how Nunnally asked. “Trust her to save your life if needed, or to help you, but don’t trust her with what you know. Considering this advice a gift from me: don’t trust anyone else with everything. Their motivations and yours do not line up. Many will use and discard you. Always keep them distracted with the fact that you know more than them, and they would be losing valuable information should they harm you.” _ )

 

She already trusted them with far more than she should, but Nunnally wanted to believe that her sisters would have done anything to get them back, just like Cornelia claimed in the future. 

 

“Viceroy.” came Dalton’s terse tone, and Cornelia let Nunnally go from her embrace, although that only meant Euphemia dove in to give her a tight hug, much fiercer than Cornelia, clinging tightly and shaking with silent, repressed tears. 

 

It was easier for Nunnally to wrap her arms back around Euphie in return, knowing her half-sister in the first timeline managed to keep her and Lelouch a secret, even from Cornelia, no matter how close the two of them had been. 

 

Or maybe it was just because she and Euphie were closer in age, and played together often in childhood, sharing toys and dreams and her brother’s attention. Nunnally never did understand why anyone would think Lelouch would aim to kill Euphie in attempt to further his own goals. The very concept didn’t make sense in her head. 

 

Even Alice made a curious noise, and Nunnally tilted her head up from where Euphemia wrapped arms around her waist, the hair at the top of Euphie’s head tickling her nose. 

 

Then Cornelia breathed out an exasperated sigh, and said, “Tell your back-up to put away her weapons. She’s making Darlton nervous.”

 

She hadn’t been sure that Sayoko would have made a threat rather than suddenly attack, but now she was glad the woman did.

 

“She won’t attack so long as I’m not attacked,” Nunnally said honestly because she knew that the moment any real threat came up, Sayoko wouldn’t hesitate. Maybe she wouldn’t have known the first time around, but Sayoko stood with her even in the future, and she stood with Lelouch when her brother had been in grave danger. The first time, Nunnally knew, she had only known Sayoko could fight as a peripheral thought, but it never really registered or sunk in with her— that the Ashford family specifically assigned an extremely skilled fighter to the protection of the Lamperouge children as a nursemaid. 

 

There were others under the employ of the Ashford family to ensure their family and assets remained safe, but Sayoko was an elite fighter, and she bonded quite thoroughly with Lelouch and Nunnally over the years, often helping Nunnally pick out her clothes, and reminding a sleepy Lelouch to eat breakfast in the mornings, even if it was nothing but toast and tea. 

 

“ _ How _ ?” It was just like Euphemia to ignore the threat that seemed to raise the hackles of everyone else, entirely focused on Nunnally instead. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you contact us sooner? Was it because we weren’t close enough to meet you in person? Did Clovis know?”

 

The former third prince’s name seemed to somber Nunnally, reminding her that she hadn’t arrived so very early, not enough to prevent all the deaths after all. Instead, she wanted so hard to save Lelouch, save Euphemia, that she completely overlooked Clovis. 

 

Not that it mattered when she didn’t know when she would land back in time— if this was indeed time, rather than an alternate timeline or a dream she came up with. She wouldn’t be able to confirm, but was unwilling to attempt to stop her Geass until she saw things through.

 

Nunnally shook her head in response, knowing that they would understand. While she needed verbal cues in order to know their responses, they wouldn’t need it from her, and she didn’t want to talk about how she failed Clovis. 

 

Clovis, whom her brother killed— in this timeline as well. 

 

Not that she could figure out how to tell her sisters— if she even would. 

 

There were things that she couldn’t meddle in, Nunnally was sure. If Lelouch wanted to reveal his identity as Zero, then perhaps she could convince him to do so. But she couldn’t reveal his identity without him, not when he didn’t even know that she knew. 

 

She would have to seem resentful, would have to reason why she hadn’t reached out in all this time, but now suddenly decided to do so. She didn’t want to mention Zero at all. 

 

“I sent people to search for you,” Cornelia said, her voice hushed as the words made its way to Nunnally. “During the war— when our forces were deployed. I sent Guilford— Dalton— the Glaston Knights I had then, to search for the two of you. I begged father for the chance to do it myself, not as a commander or a soldier, but just as a sister.”

 

Nunnally heard this before. She stayed silent nevertheless, needing to hear it again. 

 

“He refused.” Euphemia was the one who admitted it, her voice pained. “She wasn’t even allowed to leave her post at Area 7 then. Gilbert was forced to return after the end of the war, but Sir Andreas stayed afterwards. Right?”

 

There was a hesitation, but then Dalton spoke up, “It is as Her Highnesses said.”

 

“He stayed for five months after, and called everyday. He stayed until the Emperor finally ordered him back to his post. He searched everywhere! We had to—” Euphemia’s voice cracked there. “Search through hospital records, too. For… unidentified bodies. But there were so many mass graves after the war…”

 

The others were all quiet, but Nunnally could pick up on what they didn’t say. 

 

No matter how they might have wanted to save Lelouch and Nunnally, none of them dared defy the Emperor’s will. 

 

She had to be certain, this time. She knew that Lelouch would shun them, even if he might still love them. Nunnally understood the sentiment, more than she could admit out loud. Where was the line drawn? If they wanted to help, but then didn’t because they didn’t want to try the Emperor’s temper, then did that make them just as bad as him?

 

A part of her screamed that  _ yes _ , it did. The only person to stand up for her after their mother’s death was Lelouch. He had been punished for it, but he never backed down from those ideals— never regretted picking her over all the advantages he would have held as a favored son of the Emperor. 

 

But at the same time, Nunnally didn’t know if she would have had the same courage back then. She was doing so now— choosing him over all the advantages she had as Empress in the future, and she would never regret the choice. 

 

Euphemia, she thought, could be forgiven. She had only been nine when Empress Marianne died, and with no grasp of courtly politics or what to do. Even Lelouch had been inexperienced and naive back then, sheltered by safety and love. 

 

Cornelia had the power to do something, but fear held her back. Fear for Euphie, maybe, and also fear for herself, knowing what happened when Lelouch tried to speak out against the Emperor. In banishing the two of them to be political hostages, the Emperor strengthened his grip on the rest of his children, reminding them that at any moment, all the power given to them could just as easily be taken away. 

 

He ordered, and they obeyed. No one would step out of line to rescue Lelouch and Nunnally, and there was a small, childlike, and angry part of her that could never forgive her half-siblings for that. So many of their siblings had been older, had been smarter, held more power… they could have changed things. They could have  _ tried _ . 

 

But in this, Cornelia  _ had _ tried. She tried everything she thought she could do, and then no further. Nunnally couldn’t blame her for her fear of acting out, not when Euphemia was just as young and in danger should Cornelia rebel. 

 

But at the same time…

 

“You couldn’t go against  _ him _ back then.” Nunnally deduced with a frown. “How can I know that you won’t turn us in when he orders it? If he has us killed this time, because we survived the last one?”

 

It was harsh. It undermined everything that they tried to tell her. But she  _ had _ to ask. 

 

Lelouch would not have given her up, even if the Emperor decreed the very worst. He hadn’t, not when he was ten years old. 

 

Nunnally could only do the same for her brother. If something happened to him because she wanted a better world… if the worst happened, and it was because of  _ her _ … 

 

Well, then all her interference would be for nothing, and she would once again be left with the guilt of his death on her conscience, knowing that he died for her. That he died because she couldn’t save him.

 

“Because we lost you once already.” Cornelia told her, and she was strangely reminded of how Schneizel once told her that he already mourned once for her and Lelouch, and wouldn’t bring himself to do it again. “And if I can— make up for some of my past mistakes… I won’t lose you again.”

 

(“ _ Or have you not learned that lesson?” Jeremiah’s voice accused Cornelia. Nunnally remembered only in that moment that the two were the same age, in the same guard for her mother. _ )

 

“What if I trust you,” Nunnally asked, although her real question wasn’t just a matter of trust, “and what if the Emperor finds out? I want my sisters again, but I can’t trade that want for my brother’s safety.”

 

She had to choose, just like all her other siblings had chosen. Who was she loyal to?

 

There was no doubt.

 

“You must have already known,” Euphemia told her. “If you sent us that letter.”

 

It was true, although she couldn’t admit it so easily. 

 

“I wanted to see you again,” Nunnally said, the irony of those words not lost on her. “To ask you… for closure, if I had to. And then, if we had to, we could disappear again. For good, this time.”

 

A lie, but one already prepared. Let them think that she had the power to evade even the longest arm of the Empire, that she was confident in it. 

 

Just as her brother had needed the closure, she read from his memories, to their mother’s death. 

 

“We wouldn’t!” Euphie exclaimed, just as Nunnally knew she would. “We can keep secrets. We can keep you safe. Right, Cornelia?”

 

Nunnally tilted her head towards where she knew Cornelia was standing, waiting for the response. One word from her, she knew, and the Glaston Knights would follow her onto death, even against the Empire. With two princesses and the Glaston Knights on their side, Nunnally would be able to— to gather  _ influence _ . Find a way toward the future that didn’t involve the deaths of the people she held most dear. 

 

Find— maybe find a knight for her brother, even. He might protest, might scoff at the idea, but she would be much happier knowing there was someone there at all times to look out for him, even if she wasn’t. 

 

Whatever it was that Cornelia was looking for, she must have found, as a hand cupped Nunnally’s cheek tenderly. 

 

“Whatever you need,” she told Nunnally warmly, all traces of her previous anger gone. “Whatever is within my power to do… I will. To keep you and Lelouch safe. If it is the Empire you fear, then I will not allow any knowledge of your existence to be leaked. To know that you survived… it’s a miracle.” There was an odd quality to her words, a watery lilt to the consonants that spoke of emotions she was barely containing. “I have never stopped looking. I came to Area 11 thinking that I would have to avenge three of my siblings…”

 

There was a wetness against Nunnally’s shirt, and she felt Euphemia sniffle, but otherwise didn’t make any other indication of crying. 

 

“But you’re alive.” And here, she felt the warmth of Cornelia’s forehead pressed against hers, and the crack in her voice. “ _ You’re alive. _ ”

  
  


— 

  
  


The meeting took nearly two hours, as Guilford left to postpone most of Cornelia’s meetings and plans, and Euphemia refused to let go of Nunnally’s hand the entire time, laughing through her tears as Nunnally very carefully showed her several pictures of Lelouch and herself through the years. The knights cleaned off the table, and soon they were all sitting around the cheap laminate wood, even though Guilford and Darlton felt more than a little tense and awkward sitting down, and Alice seemed seconds away from starting another fight. 

 

She had never been so grateful for Shirley and Milly, who tended to send her all the photos that the student council took, even the ones that her brother demanded they wipe from existence after Milly’s various blackmailing attempts. All photos were accompanied with appropriate explanations of what was happening in the images as well, to allow for Nunnally to organize them into different folders on her phone. 

 

She didn’t pull out any pictures that included the student council, not at first. Not until at least a full hour into her sisters’ attempts to warm up to her, at least, finally getting to questions on where she and Lelouch stayed, on their living situation, on their lives. 

 

Alice was a lifesaver in that scenario, already familiar with the contents on Nunnally’s phone thanks to helping her look for things from time to time. Alice already knew what folders to avoid and what could be shown to the two princesses, who seemed to regard her presence with some caution and wariness. 

 

She wondered just what happened in that brief scuffle her friend got into with Sir Guilford. 

 

“ _ Oh _ ,” Euphie would breathe out every few images, sounding teary-eyed and so gloriously  _ happy _ that her mere presence made Nunnally feel as if everything was right with the world. “Just look at the two of you! You’re so very cute together, you know that? I wish I could have been there...”

 

She didn’t even know what image Euphie and Cornelia were on. It was a folder from a few years ago, Nunnally knew, of a trip she took with her brother to one of the few classical Japanese gardens that had been untouched by the war. It was just for an afternoon, and both Sayoko and Milly accompanied them during that outing, but that meant there were dozens of pictures of that afternoon with variations of all of them, although mostly with Milly taking pictures and insisting on silly poses or laughing at Lelouch’s reluctance. 

 

She remembered a prized photo from that day, one that Milly sent to her, of Lelouch carrying her piggy-back, despite Nunnally being a little too old for that by then, and her reaching up towards a branch of cherry blossoms. Milly had cooed over that photo, saying mostly the same thing Euphie was saying now.

 

She never got to see that photo herself. All evidence of her life and moments like that had been erased by the time she made her way back to Ashford Academy, and Nunnally mourned the loss of those moments during the years without her brother. 

 

She wanted to see that photo. She wanted so badly to see it, and all the other photos that had been compiled for her through the years, only to be lost by the time she opened her eyes.

 

“Where is Lelouch now?” Cornelia asked, and if Nunnally couldn’t see straight through what she really wanted to ask, about how she managed to be here, to pull this off, without her brother, Nunnally would have laughed. 

 

“Oh,” she tried to pull off as casually as possible. “He has a date tonight, so he won’t get back for a while yet.”

 

Shirley would very likely not appreciate being the subject of gossip between three Britannian princesses, but it was such a safe and normal subject that she couldn’t resist. 

 

_ That _ prompted Euphie to go off with her gasps again, this time insisting that Nunnally tell her  _ everything _ because she needed to know. By now, Alice was sitting in the seat next to Nunnally, and while Sayoko must have still been outside waiting for them, Nunnally heard Cornelia call off the rest of her knights, insisting that Guilford and Darlton was more than enough right now. 

 

“I want to see him,” Euphie was pleading, first at Nunnally and then with her voice turned toward Cornelia. “We can go in disguise, can’t we? No one will know!”

 

“You’re going to interrupt his date?” Cornelia asked, sounding far too amused for Nunnally to believe she would tell her sister no. “You can wait until after.”

 

“Then  _ can _ we go after?” Euphemia seemed to pounce on that, with excess energy, and Nunnally couldn’t believe how much she missed her sister. But this time, knowing that Cornelia was always weak to Euphemia’s trivial demands, Nunnally was the one who had to refuse. 

 

“He doesn’t know I’m here.” She reminded them. She shook her head. “...And if Lelouch doesn’t want to be seen, then you’re not going to find him.”

 

Not entirely true, as her experience taught her that her brother tended to draw attention where he went, but that was just from her experience at school, and she was sure Euphemia would draw far more attention— attention that would create a commotion from far enough away that her brother would be alerted, and slip past without notice if he really wanted to. 

 

“And… Lelouch?” Cornelia’s tone was hesitant. “He would disapprove of meeting us, then.”

 

Even if he did, the cat was already out of the bag. A second chance, C.C. informed her in the future, did not necessarily mean a third chance. Once she started a plan, she would have to commit to it. There were no taking ideas back, not when she already put this into action. 

 

“He’s…” And how could she describe it? When Lelouch was the person behind the mask of Zero, the one terrorizing the empire; the one who already killed Clovis, and the one Cornelia had been fighting against just days ago at Narita? She wondered if her apprehension showed on her face. “Protective. He wants answers as much as me—” More, even, with how ruthlessly he went after hints of who their mother’s murderer might be, “ —but he doesn’t want us to be thrown into another war. Or sent off again, this time apart. He thinks…”

 

There were so many things her brother always had on his mind, and Nunnally could hardly start to fathom any of it now. 

 

“...it’s safer to stay hidden.” Nunnally finished, feeling rather lame for her words. That description didn’t do Lelouch justice at all, not when he held both the safe and peaceful life as a Lamperouge, but also threw himself into danger at every opportunity to desperately try and help others. 

 

People could call him a demon and tyrant all they liked, but Nunnally knew better. For him, it was always about people— himself and his own revenge playing a part of it, Nunnally’s future and happiness playing a much larger part, but a portion of his heart always bled for innocents caught up in conflict they didn’t deserve. 

 

She knew, because he had always been the type of person who would intervene when no one else dared. First for her, and other times for strangers. He could never just stand around and let someone else hurt when he could do something to help. Later on, it might have all been numbers to him, but from the very start, Lelouch only sacrificed soldiers and those who already had blood on their hands.

 

Nunnally just didn’t know how to convey that to others.

 

“I think he misses you.” She admits quietly. “But doesn’t want to.”

 

Cornelia exhaled a shaky breath, and Euphie only leaned closer to Nunnally in sympathy. 

 

She wondered if she should use the same story she told Alice, the same story she would tell everyone else. It was hard to upkeep the illusion that they could leave at any time, that there was nothing tying them to the life at Ashford Academy, and admitting to worries was just another break in that tale.

 

But it would corroborate with everything else. 

 

“Truth be told,” Nunnally said, making sure to make her words seem very small and full of self-doubt. She twisted her hands in her lap, ducking her head slightly in a childish manner she long stopped doing unconsciously since she hit nineteen… but that would be years in the future. “I wanted to contact you because… I don’t know how long we’ll be staying.”

 

Here, Alice stiffened next to her. 

 

“I’ve been having a bad feeling lately. Like— like we’re being watched somehow. I don’t know if anyone knows who we really are, but I don’t think we’re being watched because of that.”

 

_ Mao _ . C.C. told her everything about him, and Nunnally decided long ago that she would have to avoid the man. She planned around his arrival, and knew there was still some time before he would appear at Ashford Academy. By then, she would be ready, and she would avoid him entirely. If she could plant the seed that he was stalking her and her brother, then maybe he could be taken care of before she even needed to do anything with her plans. 

 

Either way, even if that didn’t pan out, Mao existed and would be useful to her story. 

 

It was only fair, she thought. He literally kidnapped her last time to use as a pawn to torment her brother. And according to C.C., he had been very bent on actually killing her to teach her brother a lesson, and then killing her brother afterward.

 

“Watching?” Cornelia’s tone was sharp. “Someone is following you?”

 

Nunnally shook her head. “...It’s just a feeling.”

 

She could feel that Alice very much wanted to say something, next to her, but refrained from doing so mostly because of the company they were keeping. She reached out slightly with the hand closest to her friend, and felt Alice rest her hand right next to her pinky. 

 

There was a soft chiming that seemed to startle Euphemia next to her, and Nunnally reached to take her phone back from her half-sister’s fingers knowing the alarm for what it was. 

 

“Sorry,” she told them, “I have to go now. I didn’t think I would stay this long…”

 

“Go?” Euphemia sounded so lost for a moment, as if Nunnally was suggesting they might never meet again, just when they finally found each other. “Wait— but, why don’t we have dinner together? And— we can wait for Lelouch, too!”

 

Luckily, Nunnally was saved from having to deny that request herself as Cornelia spoke softly to Euphemia, “Not today, Euphie. I’m sure we need to give Nunnally some time. She needs to tell Lelouch about us.”

 

Nunnally nodded in agreement. “Yes. He’ll listen to me, I know it, but he doesn’t like being taken off guard. And I don’t want him to react badly to you.”

 

“He won’t, I know it.” And there was something strange about Euphemia’s declaration, and her complete conviction in her statement. Something that nudged at Nunnally’s suspicions. Had Euphie already known that Lelouch was alive? It certainly sounded like she’s thought about it before. 

 

At her other side, Alice was nudging her. “We should go, Nunnally. We’ve already stayed too long. The people at the front have been giving us  _ looks _ now.” Even if they  _ had _ continued to order drinks, going through so many due to how much they were speaking. 

 

“Yes, you’re right,” and here, Euphemia very reluctantly gave Nunnally back the phone, only lingering a moment longer to ask.

 

“What about your number? Can I at least call you later? Or text? Oh, um, I suppose texting wouldn’t work…”

 

“No, you can text.” Nunnally responded almost instinctively, having been used to the amount of classmates who stumbled over the same issue over the years. “But… it probably wouldn’t be a good idea. Your numbers are too public, even if they’re not well-known. If any of your calls are traced…”

 

“I’ll get another phone!” Euphemia volunteered enthusiastically, and then shifted so her voice was directed at Cornelia, “I can get another phone, right, Nellie? That way, we can call Lelouch and Nunnally and they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else finding out!”

 

Cornelia breathed out a fond, “Of course you can.”

 

“Please, Nunnally? Please? We only just found you again— I don’t want to let you go. I can’t do it, not without a way of knowing how to find you again. I’ll keep it a secret, and I won’t let anyone know that I even have a phone for you.”

 

It wasn’t hard to remember that Euphemia was still young herself, so much younger than Nunnally mentally now, even if not physically. It was in the way her voice was so sweet and so hopeful still, untouched by any manner of tragedies other than what happened to her siblings before. 

 

She was supposed to be the younger one, but Nunnally couldn’t help her own wave of fondness at Euphemia’s enthusiasm and sweetness, and only relented with a, “...Don’t write it down.” as she told them her number. 

 

Euphemia recited it twice to ensure she got it correct, the second time more confident than the other, and she could feel Cornelia’s fondness and that her older half-sister must have already memorized it as well, along with the two knights she brought along. 

 

“Text me when you get that phone,” Nunnally said warmly. She tapped a finger on her own phone before pulling it towards herself and pocketing it. “And I’ll add you as a contact. Under Euphie, maybe?”

 

There was no way she could list  _ Princess Euphemia li Britannia _ under her contact list, after all. Even Euphie was pushing it a little. She would definitely have to inform her brother about this meeting soon, especially since he would soon know about the calls if Euphie did manage to find a phone— which Nunnally suspected would happen almost immediately. 

 

It brought up another point. 

 

“Can you,” Here was the point to display weakness, a voice whispered in her ear. It was something she learned from the memories of her brother, although it wasn’t a tactic he employed often. He liked people to underestimate him at times, thinking him nothing but a helpless high schooler, but he also preferred to match wits with others at their fullest rather than take advantage of his youth and demeanor. Nunnally, however, did not have her brother’s full intellect or his cunning, and therefore would need every advantage she could find. Her biggest advantage right now would be having others underestimate her. That should be easy enough to do— to make them think there was something they could hold over her. “Not bring up how I wrote the letter… to Lelouch, later? I could just tell him we ran into each other, and that it was an accident.”

 

While the others seemed to accept the excuse, Alice’s curious stare bore into her. Her friend knew just how much she loathed to lie to her brother. 

 

“Because he doesn’t want you talking with us?” Euphemia asked, sounding grieved. 

 

Nunnally shook her head. “He’s just— protective. If you were to talk to with a rebel faction, I’m sure Nellie would be really worried, too. Even if they would never hurt you.”

 

A subtle dig, perhaps, to see if Euphemia really knew what Nunnally suspected she might know. How, she wasn’t sure, but it was in her half-sister’s reactions and hesitations. 

 

“Oh,” was Euphie’s response, and yes, there it was, that somewhat wistful tone once again, even as Cornelia seemed to round up to what Nunnally said and protest them being the enemy faction (as well as chiding Euphie about the sheer  _ idea _ of consorting with the enemy, because she would never allow it). 

 

“I’d rather tell him myself.” Nunnally amended. “...Later.”

 

_ Give them a weakness _ , her brother’s logic rang in her head,  _ and they won’t look for more. Make them think you have no other, due to shallowness. Have that secret weakness mean more than you in their heads than it ever could in reality. _

 

Let them hold something inconsequential over her head in case something went wrong. That would make it easier for them to trust her. 

  
  
  



	11. Silver Bells and Cockle Shells

_ I’m so happy we can talk to each other!  _ Her phone read to her in the slight robotic monotone, because of course Euphemia would have Cornelia buy her a phone first thing after their meeting. Her phone chimed again, and Nunnally eased her fingers over the familiar buttons for it to read,  _ Nellie got a phone, too. She says it’s a good idea to have personal contacts at all times. She’s going to send texts, too. Maybe we should start a group chat? _

 

Another chime.  _ I started one! I’ll add you. Heart emoji. Heart emoji. Heart emoji. _

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Alice asked her quietly, as she helped her back into the clubhouse, with Sayoko following along behind them at a distance. Nunnally had double, tripled, checked with Cornelia that they wouldn’t be followed, because that would be worse than them running into trouble on the way back. If any suspicion at all were placed upon Nunnally and Lelouch being more than who they said they were… 

 

“Giving them my number?” Nunnally asked, listening as the soft chimes continued to come from her phone, the robotic voice inviting her to a group chat. 

 

“All of this.” Alice responded, subdued. “If you think something’s wrong… Nunnally, what’s going on?”

 

Her question stopped Nunnally short. “I told you. It’s just a feeling.”

 

“You’ve had bad feelings before. Nothing’s made you— do anything like this. Contact the royal family. You used Miss Sayoko. You’re going behind your brother’s back. It’s not like you.”

 

It wasn’t anything that a fourteen year old Nunnally would have done, timid and dependent as she had been. It was sometimes hard to remember just how much she changed over the years, because back then— or rather, what should be now— she would never have been able to pull off that meeting with Cornelia and Euphemia. 

 

As terrible as it was to admit, she likely would have broken down in tears the moment Cornelia started threatening her, panicking and regretting her decision, if she ever gathered the courage to contact them in the first place. 

 

The two princesses wouldn’t have known that, though. For all they knew, Nunnally changed this much due to the seven years they spent apart, not over the span of under a week. Alice, however, would have seen the rapid changes. 

 

“Just last week, you were telling me about how you didn’t want anything to change! That you wanted to stay here, at Ashford, forever, and that you were  _ worried _ about how everything was changing in Area 11. You didn’t want to a part of any of this, and you were scared of all the fighting going on.”

 

Had she? She couldn’t remember any of that, but it would have been many years ago for her, and the peaceful days back then passed like water through her fingers. If nothing truly terrible happened, then her days were the same for the most part, and she didn’t remember any particular conversation like that. 

 

“And then you were out for a day, and now— you’re suddenly different. Like you can’t wait for… I don’t know. But it’s like you don’t want to stay here anymore. You’re looking at something new, and far away.”

 

Nunnally frowned, feeling a little guilty but unable to do anything about it. How could she possibly tell Alice that for her, “last week” had been well over five years ago? That of course she was different. It was that thought which slumped her shoulders, because while her desire to undertake this change overwhelmed all else, she wasn’t used to keeping secrets like this. 

 

Always, always keeping secrets. She was used to holding back, to not saying anything, to keep her emotions bottled up within her chest until they felt like they wanted to burst forth, but not like— this. Not lying so actively, and all the time. Not without someone to confess to what she was feeling, even if she couldn’t say why. 

 

How could she tell Alice that?

 

How could she reveal even a little of her plans, enough to calm her friend, and still keep her secrets?

 

How could she—? 

 

“I  _ do _ want to stay here.” Nunnally said, trying to inject as much sincerity as she could into those words. “I love it here. I love this school, and my home, and everyone here.”

 

“Then why are you preparing so hard to  _ go away _ ?” Alice protested, sounding somewhat fearful. 

 

Was this because she made the bluff about being able to leave if things went wrong? She reached out with a hand slightly, hesitant, before withdrawing without giving the other girl a chance to reach back. No. Alice was smart, a lot smarter than most people might expect from her. And just as Nunnally had things about herself hidden away from the rest of the world, she had long ago sensed the same from Alice. Alice learned her secret, and never told a soul. 

 

She couldn’t endanger the plans she made, but. Her friend deserved more than the confusion and fear Nunnally gave to her. 

 

“I’m not trying to go away.” Nunnally told her. “I don’t want to go away. But if something happens… Alice. I. Have you ever— had a dream?” What was she saying? She didn’t want to lie anymore, but she couldn’t forget C.C.’s words to keep her knowledge to herself. If someone else, anyone else, knew, then things wouldn’t play out the same. Even know, she was sure a lot of things would be sure to change. “A very long dream. Like you’ve— lived weeks in that dreams. Maybe years.”

 

She shook her head, and then continued without giving the other girl a chance to answer that, “I’ve been dreaming a lot. Of the future. Of the things to come, and what might happen. And it feels like an omen, because I keep seeing the same things. Like… if I don’t do something myself, to change these events, then all my dreams are going to play out the same way, and they’re not… good… dreams. Maybe good for other people, but it’s not the way I want things to go.”

 

Alice breathed out a tiny sigh, and the shifting of her clothes caught Nunnally’s attention before the sound of her friend kneeling next to her wheelchair. “...Are they nightmares?”

 

“No,” Nunnally was reluctant to admit. She balled her hands into fists on her lap, curling fingers around the soft cotton of her skirt. “In my dreams, the future is bright. It’s wonderful, and the world is a good place. Everyone’s happy. Things are— kinder.”

 

She tilted her face upward, eyes unseeing underneath closed lids. 

 

“In those dreams, I have another family. Another home. Everything is beautiful. But… I lost everything. This. This home. My brother. Everyone here.” How could she convey the dread of the future through the ball of emotion stuck in her throat? “...You.”

 

All she could hope for was to convey the grief she felt in the future into those words. 

 

“And I hated everything.” Nunnally admitted quietly. “Because everyone else in the world seemed so good and happy, but I was so unhappy. And I keep having that same dream— that if I don’t do something now, if I allow everyone to keep me in this… this nice,  _ safe _ bubble… then that’s what would happen. The best possible scenario, because I’d lose everyone, but be safe in return.”

 

She gave it a moment to let the words sink in, and then turned her head to where Alice was kneeling next to her. 

 

“I don’t want to be safe,” she said, “I want to be with the people I love.”

 

Here, Alice placed a hesitant hand on her knee, the contact only the slightest pressure against her skirt. 

 

“Are you going to tell me it’s just a dream?” Nunnally asked.

 

Alice sighed. “...No. It doesn’t matter if it’s a dream, does it? It’s still something you don’t want to happen.”

 

“No. I want the peace and brightness of that future. But I’m not willing to give up on the people I love for it. I think I realized last week, Alice, that I’m actually a very selfish person. I want a brighter, gentler future… but I won’t give up what I have now in order to get it. I’d rather give up who I am than the people I love.”

 

“...And you think— contacting the princesses, that will help?”

 

“I don’t know. But I think if I don’t, then some very bad things will happen in the future. At least if I have their attention, I can—” Mitigate the damage, probably. “...Call someone. I love my brother. He would do far too much to help me, but in the end, we’re just two students here. What could we possibly do if the danger is too great?”

 

Lelouch would do far more than what a normal high schooler could do in order to help her, Nunnally knew. But that only made her fear for him more. 

 

“Did you think about how he would react? When he finds out what you did?”

 

She couldn’t stop thinking about it. Wondered if he would feel betrayed, as much as she felt on the Damocles. Trust went both ways, after all, and as much as she believed with all her being back then that her brother would never turn against her, he must also believe that she would never betray him. 

 

She only hoped that he would understand somehow that she did this to save him. 

 

She didn’t know if she could convey that to him in a way he’d understand, or if they would fail to communicate with each other just like on the Damocles. 

 

She must have stayed silent for too long contemplating this, because Alice said very quietly, “...I would protect you, Nunnally. You don’t have to rely on them if you’re not sure about them. And if… well, if you don’t want to involve your brother, then I can help. You’re my friend, and I…”

 

Nunnally hand sought out the one on her knee, and she squeezed at Alice’s warm fingers, feeling callouses along the pads of her fingertips all the way down to her palms, including the side of her hand down her index finger next to her thumb.

 

“You’re my friend, too.” Best friend, she wanted to add, especially since she worked the past five years without much in terms of friends anymore. It was difficult when no one from before remembered her, and after she became Empress, who wanted to be friends with her? She had a handful of people she could call to talk to around her age, but they were all sons and daughters of various politicians— people she met irregularly when their parents took them to social events to meet her. They were good friends— didn’t brag about having her contact, or ask her for things only an Empress could provide, but they weren’t  _ close _ . “And I don’t want to drag you into anything that I can’t—” 

 

“Let me decide that.” Alice told her. “You wouldn’t be dragging me into anything. You can just tell me what’s going on, or if you need me, and I’ll decide whether I want to help or not. Alright?”

 

And what else could she do but agree?

  
  


— 

  
  


Lelouch came home very late that night, much later than she anticipated for Shirley’s date, late enough that Nunnally worried herself extensively before realizing she had no say in that aspect of his life and eventually falling into a fitful sleep. 

 

It wasn’t until the next morning that she heard her brother’s quiet, mournful tones about how he and Milly arranged for everyone to be excused for their morning classes tomorrow that Nunnally realized she forgot something vitally important already. 

 

“We’ve been invited to the funeral,” Lelouch told Sayoko during breakfast, and Nunnally’s hands froze with her fork halfway down. “To support Shirley.”

 

Shirley. Her  _ father _ . It had been a tragedy, but Nunnally hardly managed to pay attention to it last time, and it barely registered again for her this time around. He died, caught up as a civilian during the Battle of Narita. If she had only managed to say something to Shirley, maybe tell her to make her dad go— go buy something, or anything to get him away from the disaster zone during that day… 

 

If she only managed to tell Lelouch to redo his calculations, that he didn’t need that amount of force when fighting, because the landslide he would cause would be catastrophic, easily catching into the streets of Narita, then this wouldn’t have happened. 

 

She knew it would happen— it didn’t matter that this happened before she made all her plans. Nunnally hadn’t even thought to include the student council that couldn’t benefit her, much less Shirley’s father, into her plans. 

 

She could have prevented this. 

 

Sayoko’s distant condolences revealed from Lelouch that he actually did manage to make time last night to make it to the opera with Shirley, although he had been a little late. That she seemed really off and distant, and that by intermission, Shirley had burst into tears and run off, and he followed out into the rain. The rest of the evening had been spent trying to console her and wheedle what was wrong out, and then walking her back to her dorms and making sure she warmed up and then leaving very strict instructions with her roommate to take care of her. 

 

The little details were left out, she could feel. 

 

_ I could have saved him _ , Nunnally thought numbly. 

 

“You don’t have to go,” Lelouch told her, before he had to leave for classes. He was very quiet, awkward in his tone and stilted with his guilt, and Nunnally wanted to protest. “Shirley’s taking today and tomorrow off from school. She’ll be back after that.”

 

“But I should…” there was an uncertainty in her voice, and she tensed her jaw in an attempt to hide it, even if she was sure her expression already showed far too much. 

 

“It’s a long trip,” her brother told her, “And we’ll be there, and then back by the afternoon. If you want to come, then I’ll insist on it with Milly, but I think Shirley would be happy to see you again afterward. It might help to have a face not associated with the funeral for her.”

 

It was a good point, if only based on Nunnally’s own experiences. She knew she should be drawing on her memories of their mother’s funeral, but… for her, it had been a massive relief after Lelouch’s funeral, to talk to someone who hadn’t been there, who didn’t have an opinion on his death. 

 

“I…” she swallowed the guilt lodged in her chest. “I understand.”

 

Was this how her brother felt? It was an awful feeling. Nunnally would have to figure out a way to talk to him about what she knew, and soon. If she could change things, then… 

 

She caught the sleeve of his uniform just as he was about to leave, feeling a dread down in her stomach that she couldn’t understand. She couldn’t even find it within her to say anything, except to hang her head and hold on to that bit of fabric like a lifeline. 

 

Luckily, he seemed to understand, and crouched in front of her wheelchair for just a bit to talk to her. 

 

“It’s going to be okay,” Lelouch told her, and let her hang on for as long as she needed. “She’s going to be okay. She’s strong, and she’s still got her mother. She’s got the rest of her friends.”

 

Nunnally just frowned and hung her head, and kept her brother there long enough to make him late for class.

  
  


— 

  
  


_ Euphie: How did the date go! _

_ Euphie: Who was it with! _

_ Euphie: Where did they go? What did they do? _

_ Euphie: What if I surprised you guys wit _

_ Nellie: I took her phone away from her. _

_ Nellie: Have a good day at school, Nunnally. _

_ Nellie: Tell me if Lelouch wasn’t a perfect gentleman. _

 

_ Me: It didn’t go well.  _

_ Me: It wasn’t his fault. _

_ Me: Her dad died. He’s attending the funeral tomorrow. _

_ Me: Now’s not really a good time. _

_ Me: Sorry. _

  
  


— 

  
  


“What if,” Nunnally told Milly after school that day, after making excuses to her brother about meeting up with friends for a project, “I told Shirley about this? I know you said she’d have a hard time keeping a secret, but…”

 

It felt awful to not include Shirley. Especially after checking with Nina on the designs and the normally quiet girl looking more excited than anything to be included on this project. 

 

But if they included Shirley, wouldn’t they have to include Suzaku, too?

 

It made sense, so Nunnally didn’t know why she felt opposed to the idea. 

 

“I think it’s a good idea,” Milly said with cheer, although it wasn’t as exuberant as she normally was. “I’m sure she’d like a project to— take her mind off things. And I’m sure the rest of us can run interference if Lelouch asks about it.”

 

That meant they would definitely need to let Suzaku in on it, too, so that they weren’t just excluding from from the project while actively involving all the other student council members. And then, like Shirley, they’d probably have to run interference with Lelouch if he asks what Suzaku’s up to as well. 

 

Not that Nunnally could tell the other members that they didn’t have to, because Suzaku was used to keeping secrets like that. 

 

(That he was keeping her and Lelouch’s secret identities, and that he was keeping being the pilot of Lancelot secret as well.)

 

“Milly,” Nunnally asked, suddenly burning to know the answer. It was alright to ask, right? They were alone, having sent Rivalz to help Nina with a few things to carry back. Milly was more focused on the designs, the scritching of a pencil on paper the loudest thing in the room. “Did you… ever hate us?”

 

The sounds of the pencil stopped abruptly, and she knew that Milly was now looking directly at her. 

 

“What brought this on?” Milly asked, the false cheer in her tone falling away into seriousness and worry.

 

_ Secrets. _ Nunnally thought darkly. Secrets and secrets and secrets. 

 

“This whole time,” she dared to continue, “What happened with your family, and— then you had to take care of me and Lelouch, too…”

 

It wasn’t something often acknowledged by any of them, that there had been a time when the Ashfords first took them in, their time and resources more limited than ever before thanks to being stripped of their ranks and titles, making their future and fortune from scratch in a new country, and taking in the abandoned royal children whose very existence could have gotten them killed by the empire. 

 

They had taken them in, and hidden them so well that the entire world thought Lelouch and Nunnally vi Britannia died during the invasion. 

 

While Milly’s parents hadn’t been happy with it, it had been Milly and her grandfather who continued to make concession after concession for them, who adapted and adjusted to life as commoners. It had been Milly who shared her toys and her time and attention with them. And it was Milly now, forced to continue and keep the secret of their existence from the world. 

 

Had she or the rest of her family gone public with having saved a prince and princess of Britannia after the invasion, after they were declared dead, and after her siblings were desperate to find them… then there was a good chance they might have won their titles back for services to the empire. 

 

Instead, they provided them with shelter and education and a protector. They gave Lelouch and Nunnally a  _ life _ . It was enough of a life that even after becoming Empress, Nunnally longed after those days. 

 

“It’s not like you to linger on things like that,” Milly told her, with unusual seriousness. Her voice was soft, though, in contemplation. “But I suppose I haven’t told you before that I never minded.”

 

Nunnally almost felt like scoffing at that. Never minded? What child wouldn’t have minded being ripped away from their home and their privilege? Goodness knew she minded, and never got over that anger. 

 

“I never liked Pendragon anyway,” Milly said rather flippantly. “I remember it, you know? Probably better than you and Lelouch. You won’t believe the amount of etiquette classes I had to take. Likely more than the royal family at that point— if one of them messes up, it’s eccentric, right? Cute. But if the rest of us make a mistake… well.” Nunnally could just feel the shrug Milly gave, falsely nonchalant. “I had arranged playdates. Most of the girls were snobs. Most of the guys were there to assess whether I was a worthy bride for later… never mind that I was ten.”

 

Milly sighed, then. “Actually, I’m sure the majority of the teenagers and young adults there were already assessing me in that manner as well. I just never wanted to think about it.”

 

...Putting it like that, life back in Pendragon sounded like a horror. 

 

“I can’t say I hated all of it.” Milly continued, her tone just as even as before, as if none of it horrified her anymore. “It was nice to have people bow to me.” She paused, and then added mischievously, “I actually have to work at it now.”

 

That made Nunnally laugh unexpectedly. 

 

“Besides,” Milly told her, voice fond, “I wouldn’t give the two of you up for the world. I don’t think I ever told you this, but… you humbled me, you know?”

 

Nunnally made an inquiring noise, her laugh faltering. 

 

“That first year,” Milly said, and the sounds of pencil on paper started up again. “I was prepared for the worst. I thought it was going to be horrible— and then we had to move to Japan? I got into a lot of arguments with grandfather that year. But when we found you guys… I thought, ‘this is it. He’ll understand how horrible it is for me now.’”

 

She gave a brief, huffing laugh. “Of course, that wasn’t the way it went at all. While I’d been complaining and whining about losing my toys and my dresses, you guys showed up after the invasion with— nothing at all. You had so much less than me, but for some reason, the two of you were doing so much better than me. And you guys were younger, too!

 

“I remember waking up one morning, and feeling generally awful about everything, and… there was breakfast. Not the Japanese fare I learned to get used to, but—  _ pancakes _ . Eggs. Bacon. Muffins. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I mean, I definitely believed my nose, that’s what led me there.”

 

Nunnally smiled at the imagery. 

 

“I thought one of the servants finally learned how to make food I wanted in the mornings. I remember making my way to the dining room, and there you were, up bright and early, having breakfast with a smile. I was so miserable the past year and you must have had it so much worse than me, but you were there. Smiling. At something as simple as breakfast. And Lelouch was sitting next to you, just talking to you, and I don’t even remember what he was saying. But someone had given him a needle and thread, and he was sitting there— fixing a tear in one of your dresses.”

 

The scritching pencil sounds elongated, breaking from the from the staccato of words, and Nunnally could hear Milly draw long, looping lines on her paper rather than continue adding notes to the designs. Doodling, probably. 

 

“And then you greeted me.” Milly said. “Told me to come sit with the two of you, and that Lelouch made breakfast, enough for everyone. You had the brightest smile… I could hardly believe it. I thought the two of you would understand my suffering that year, that I could use you as excuses to grandfather when he came to take away yet another one of my things, but… I think I might have started crying, then. You were both younger than me, lost more than me, but you guys adapted.

 

“I think I knew in that moment that I would have to do the same.”

 

This was one of the stories lost to her, Nunnally thought. When her life had been erased from her friends, from even the Ashford family, Nunnally missed a moment like this forever. 

 

“So I thought,” Milly said, this time with the tinge of humor back in her voice again, “since I was older, then I would have to be a good example! I couldn’t let you guys be better at me in everything, you know? So now I’m teaching you guys now to have fun! The two of you definitely need more fun in your lives.”

 

There was so much she skipped over in that story, Nunnally knew, but it was more than Milly had admitted in months, usually too caught up by her own schemes and her excitement. Nunnally didn’t remember the moment Milly spoke of, mostly because the majority of her mornings in childhood had been like that— the wonderful scent of breakfast, and her brother talking to her in the morning. 

 

“I never thought something as simple as pancakes in the morning would be so important to me.” Milly said fondly. “I guess I started looking for other things, then, too. Little things that I could love as much, if not more than, my life back in Pendragon. And you know what? I found so many good things, Nunnally. So many little things that make me happy, right here at this school. So to answer your question… no. I never really hated you. There were too many other things I hated back then to ever have hated you. But it was because of the two of you that I love so many things now.”

 

Nunnally shifted from where she was on her wheelchair, missing Milly now more than anything. It didn’t make sense, not when the other girl was sitting only a few feet away from her, but the clenching of her heart didn’t let up. 

 

“I’m really glad, you know,” she told Milly, feeling as if she had to confess something in return, even if it wasn’t as big a moment as Milly’s revelation. “To have met you. When we were sent to Japan, I thought the only person I’d ever be able to trust anymore in the whole world would be Lelouch. But then— then I met other people, and made friends. Then we found you again. And when you took us in, it was like I could trust other people again. Not just my brother. Not just Su—” Nunnally cut herself off abruptly, turning her head away. “You helped me believe that the world wasn’t made up of monsters.”

 

And that it hadn’t just been her and Lelouch against the entire world, after Suzaku was taken away. It was a thought that would ingrain itself in her head, until it was always her and Lelouch against the world, but thanks to the efforts of the Ashford family, Nunnally slowly learned to lean on other people as well. 

 

She thinks she would have broken entirely after Lelouch’s death if it hadn’t been for them. 

 

Then again, their lives would have been very different without the Ashfords.

 

“Good.” Milly told her, and then the other girl leaned over the table, the sound of her uniform buttons scraping lightly against the wood, and trailed a hand lightly down Nunnally’s cheek fondly. “The world isn’t made up of monsters. It’s only what we make of it.”

 

It was such a profound Milly thing to say that Nunnally couldn’t help her smile, feeling better than she had since the morning. 

 

As Milly went back to her designs and they waited for Nina and Rivalz to return, Nunnally hooked an earpiece on, and turned her attention back to her phone so that she wouldn’t disturb Milly. 

 

_ Nellie: Call us if you want to talk. We’ll be here. _

 

While the words were read to her in the robotic tone of her phone, her sister’s sentiments were strong enough to be easily transferred over. For someone who was self-admittedly awkward with normal social cues, Cornelia was nothing if not a doting sister. 

 

Nunnally took a deep breath. Alright. With the amount of people supporting her, she had to make a big change soon once more. She’d have to find a way to talk to her brother, to gauge his reaction, to find out what he was doing at the time… Maybe if she could get a hold of C.C., whom she hadn’t seen for a few days now, then things would be easier. 

 

…Tomorrow. She would do it tomorrow. 

 

Who knows who else she might not be able to save if she put it off any longer. Already, Shirley’s father…

 

Yes. For Shirley, Nunnally would find the courage to confront her brother tomorrow, after he came back home. She would tell him that she suspected something, and then hope he told her the truth. 

  
  


— 

  
  


She spent the rest of the day trying to figure out what she was going to say, reviewing the pages upon pages (now also backed up) of notes she had written down, running her fingers along each line not to read the words but just to feel the texture against her fingertips. 

 

“Can we make Shirley tea and cookies?” She asked Sayoko distractedly during the evening, when her brother was once again out. Probably with C.C. this time, doing various things for the Black Knights. Other than crucial dates, the witch hadn’t been able to give her detailed information on the day-to-day plans of her brother. 

 

Sayoko seemed to shuffle through the kitchen for a bit, and then answered kindly, “Of course we can. I’ll pick up some more flour and eggs tomorrow, and then we’ll work on it together after your classes. I’m sure Master Lelouch would be happy to help you as well.”

 

Yes, that sounded like a good plan. It would be nice to do something with Lelouch, and then she might be able to bring up her suspicions then. She could just ask Sayoko to give them some time, because they needed to talk. She was sure that the woman wouldn’t mind. Sayoko hadn’t said anything about Nunnally’s meeting with the princesses, but she must have been waiting for Nunnally to bring that up herself, especially to her brother. 

 

She retired to bed once again before her brother came home, a little disappointed in not seeing him the rest of the day as well. She didn’t remember him being out so often, but then again, he must have been to be leading the double, triple, life that he was living. 

 

In the morning, however, long before Lelouch or even Sayoko was awake, Nunnally was woken by a movement and shifting that sat down at the edge of her bed, scaring her wide awake a moment before she registered the odd and alien presence as C.C’.s.

 

“You’re up to something,” C.C. said, tone both smooth and suspicious. It made Nunnally only too aware that the woman was both dangerous and immortal, and here only on her whims, promising nothing more than to protect the lives of her contractees. 

 

C.C. could still very well derail all her plans if she didn’t find them satisfactory. 

 

Not to mention the words a future version of her had said— to not trust her past self. 

 

“No more than you,” Nunnally retorted, feeling rather sharp and aggravated at that moment. “No more than my brother.”

 

It was something about the way C.C. was sitting on her bed, without invitation, as if the woman knew explicitly what would unnerve her, and sought to push at her buttons just to see her reaction. 

 

Like C.C. was irritated about something, perhaps, and wanted to pass that feeling along to her. 

 

“You’re not as good a liar as Lelouch,” the older woman observed, her voice still flat and emotionless. “You’ll have to bluff better if you want to make it.”

 

“Make what?” Nunnally questioned, because suddenly it felt as if C.C. could see into her head, could see her plans, and she disapproved. 

 

“Ahh…” There was a shifting, perhaps C.C. looking away finally, as the heaviness of her gaze disappeared. “...Who knows?”

 

She did. C.C. definitely knew, and was keeping something from Nunnally. 

 

“How  _ did _ you get that Geass?” The question was expected, but suspicious. “I can feel it. It’s mine, but I have no memory of contracting with you. You claim I did so in the future, but there’s no Geass that can do something like that.”

 

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t know how Geass works, and you wouldn’t tell me… remember?” Not her future self, but the self in the past, in this timeline. Nunnally wondered if C.C. was as hostile to her because she couldn’t remember making the contract. 

 

“There are other ways to get power,” C.C. told her. “And other ways that make it feel like it came from me. I wonder if you’re lying?”

 

“If I was lying, why would you wait until now to ask me about it? You believed me before— that first time.”

 

“Because you didn’t think you were lying then.” C.C. told her. “If you were saying the truth, having come from the future… then I must have told you. You can’t lie to me.”

 

_ “I was the one person he could not lie to.” _

 

She must have physically recoiled. It made sense, of course. Nunnally had been painfully honest that very first night C.C. found her in the past, revealing everything from her knowledge to her emotions. It didn’t make sense to hide back then, not when she thought C.C. to be the very same woman she contacted in Australia. 

 

Now, Nunnally was surrounding herself with lies. Covering herself with them. The more lies she wove, the less this C.C. trusted her, perhaps being able to feel a bit of those lies. 

 

She could try to smile and wave it off, and it would have worked with everyone else. After all, Nunnally Lamperouge was a sweet girl, blind and crippled, and how could she possibly do anything wrong? 

 

But C.C. wouldn’t believe it. 

 

How truthful had her brother been with her? Smiling gently through the day, donning the guise of a masked vigilante at night… He must have been both frustrated and relieved, in a sense. Frustrated that there was one person he wouldn’t be able to pass his lies onto, and relieved that there was at least one person in the world that could see him through his lies. 

 

Nunnally certainly hadn’t been able to do that. 

 

“Besides,” this C.C. seemed to move closer, leaning into Nunnally space to once again wrap fingers around her chin and tilt her head forcibly up in her direction. The touch was gentle despite the sharp movement. “You’re not as good at it as Lelouch.”

 

“Who are you, really?” Nunnally countered instead, making no move to break out from C.C.’s grasp. She wasn’t all that worried, despite the gnawing anxiety that the woman would disrupt her plans. C.C. had stuck by her brother until the very end. “You keep all this information, and then tell me that I can’t lie to you. If I’m supposed to tell you the truth, then shouldn’t you do the same? It’s only fair, isn’t it?”

 

Just as suddenly, C.C. let her go. 

 

“‘Fair’ is a strange word to use, little princess,” C.C. told her, and Nunnally frowned at the nickname. “The world isn’t fair. Your own family isn’t fair. Your circumstances aren’t fair.”

 

“Don’t you want to know, though?” Nunnally pressed. “About your future? You can tell when I’m lying, maybe, but you can’t pull the truth from me… isn’t that right? That’s why you need me to tell you. Just because you can tell truth from lies doesn’t mean you can get secrets. You want my guard down so that I’ll talk to you, tell you think that I think you already know, just because I can’t hide from you.”

 

There was a rising tension in the air, and Nunnally wondered if C.C. was displeased. But then that moment passed, and the woman let out a low, amused laugh.

 

“Still a novice.” C.C. told her, patting Nunnally’s cheek once before drawing away. “Keep your secrets, if you must. It doesn’t matter to me. I suppose a part of me was curious to know why I would contract you in the future, but it’s not difficult to tell. You’re not the only one who can put one and one together.”

 

Oh.  _ Oh. _

 

For that reason, she felt a spark of anger keep in her chest. “My brother was not a failure.”

 

“Was?” And here, C.C. sounded amused. 

 

“ _ Isn’t _ .” Nunnally corrected herself, although it was too late. She clenched her fists tightly, angry at her own mistake, before forcing herself to stop digging her nails into her palms. It must have been so simple to this C.C., who barely knew her brother at all: she made a contract with him to grant him power in exchange for him granting her a wish… and somewhere along the way, he died. Therefore he failed, and she went on to contract his younger sister.

 

“I don’t need to know your secrets.” C.C. told her. “And you don’t need to tell me. I wanted to know whether you would be a hindrance to Lelouch’s plans. But it seems that it doesn’t matter, after all. Perhaps I’ll help you with your schemes, then.”

 

Nunnally didn’t want that. C.C. was vital to many of her brother’s plans, she knew, and more than that, she wanted the woman to be there and look out for Lelouch. She made a glaring mistake, and if C.C. left, deciding from the get-go that Lelouch wasn’t going to succeed where she wanted him to, then what would happen? What would—? 

 

“You told me not to trust you.” Nunnally revealed in a rush. “In the future. You said— you said that the you of this time was not trustworthy.”

 

C.C. made a considering noise. An amused noise. “ _ Oh? _ ”

 

She couldn’t say anything about events, couldn’t let on what she knew and what would happen. But maybe she could at least give C.C. this much. 

 

“You were happier, I think. And… sadder. More open. I was the one who asked you to make a contract with me. You agreed.”

 

“Trying to taunt me with information?” 

 

“No,” Nunnally denied. “My brother didn’t fail. Whatever it was you wanted, he couldn’t have. I know you think that you made a contract with me because my brother failed, but he didn’t! I was the one who asked for it, I was the one who went looking for you. So you can’t—” 

 

_ Don’t abandon him. _

 

C.C. seemed to sigh as Nunnally cut off. “...Flimsy. Farcical. You’re better than the average person, I’ll grant you that. Nowhere near the best I’ve seen, though. As such, you won’t be able to manipulate me with your words and phrasing alone. I am much, much older and more experienced than you. If you want to say something to me, do it outright.”

 

Fine. If that's what she wanted. 

 

“If you want to help me with my plans, then stay with my brother.” Nunnally said. “Protect him. If you want to help him with his plans… stay with him. Protect him. It’d be the same thing, either way.”

 

“Yet his plans didn’t work, and you don’t trust me.”

 

“Does that matter? Why can’t you just tell me what you’re after in the first place? Your ‘wish’.” She didn’t want to reiterate how C.C. was convinced from the very beginning that Nunnally would be unable to fulfill her wish. Since C.C. seemed to have, against all odds, given her the power to do exactly what she wanted and more, Nunnally couldn’t discount herself as a contractee. 

 

“When you can… I’ll tell you.”

 

So it was something she couldn’t do yet. Something her brother couldn’t do yet. Likely something to do with Geass, but her brother’s shared memories of that aspect was extremely fuzzy. He had known, at one point, even if he didn’t right now. 

 

C.C. shifted, and asked airily, “Just what are you scheming, little princess?”

 

Nunnally smiled. What goes around, comes around. 

 

“When I’m ready,” she said, “I’ll tell you.”

  
  


— 

  
  


Lelouch woke her up the next day, as opposed to Sayoko, but stayed only long enough say that he was heading off, and that he would see her in the afternoon, wishing her a good day. Nunnally breathed out groggy well wishes and consolations to be given to Shirley, making sure to smile at at her brother when he wished her a good day in return. 

 

She dozed for a few more minutes after he left until Sayoko woke her up again, this time with breakfast prepared, and helped her get ready for the morning. 

 

Just a little while longer, Nunnally thought every time she tensed at being moved around like a ragdoll. Just a little while longer, and she would be able to move around under her own power. It wasn’t just walking that she missed— it was being able to sit, to stand, to not have to use shaking arms to handle her own weight when she wanted to move to and from her bed. 

 

The conversation with C.C. lingered on her mind, and she wondered if she was being uncooperative. She didn’t quite know what C.C. wanted with her or her brother, after all, and while she vaguely trusted the woman she knew in the future, the one in the past was  _ different _ somehow. More aloof. Colder. 

 

She was warmer in the future and more willing to share information and care. Nunnally wondered if it had to do with her brother somehow, and whether that meant something about the two of them. 

 

She hardly paid any attention through her morning classes, and then excused herself from the afternoon classes when she got a text from Sayoko about whether she wanted to join in prepwork for the cookies that Nunnally suggested making before. 

 

It was incredibly rare that Sayoko would encourage her to help out in the kitchen, and she grabbed onto the chance with both hands, asking Alice to tell their teachers that she had a headache and would be heading back, while handing the other girl the homework they had to turn in during those classes. 

 

Maybe Sayoko was thinking of something fancier than Nunnally originally thought?

 

As she was making her way to the high school campus (by herself, despite Alice’s sullen silence about that), her phone started to ring. 

 

Odd. Most knew better than to call her, especially during the middle of the school day when she might get into trouble for having her phone on during class. 

 

“Hello?” She answered after a moment of fumbling. 

 

There was a long, grainy silence. Then the caller hung up. 

 

She frowned, an odd feeling tightening her belly. Had either Cornelia or Euphemia accidentally revealed her number somehow? Maybe the caller had seen their phones and didn’t know who it was, or wanted to try the number? The thought of it made her anxious, but at least it would be easily explained away. If that was the case, she’d be a little mad at them the next time they spoke, but it wasn’t something she could deal with now. 

 

She told her phone to list the number and remember it, as she would have to ask her half-sisters about it later on. Surely one of their knights would be able to assess where the call came from. 

 

Her phone rang again. 

 

This time, Nunnally didn’t even want to answer, frowning as the robotic voice read out the numbers to her, confirming it did indeed come from the previous caller. 

 

...One more, then. And then she would immediately call her sisters about it. 

 

“Hello?” Nunnally tried again, this time more cautiously, both hands cradling the phone to the side of her face, listening for an indication of who might be on the other side. To her surprise, there was an echoed ‘hello’ back on the other side, just as hesitant and cautious through the grain, and she only had half a moment to realize— no, that wasn’t another person on the other side, that was an  _ echo _ — 

 

Arms wrapped around her, and she dropped her phone in her shock, taking in a breath to scream when a wet rag was shoved over her face, both muffling her scream and startling her with the intense smell of something vaguely sweet and cold, like acetone or alcohol, making her choke on her own breathing. 

 

She struggled, fighting against the arms that were holding her tightly to the back of her wheelchair, hands grasping as she tried to search out where she dropped her phone— maybe she could— 

 

Could—

 

She couldn’t hit back, whoever managed to grab her. Couldn’t breathe, not really, except she couldn’t  _ stop _ gulping in her breaths either as an arm crushed her arms to the sides of her ribcage, and Nunnally had the thought that Alice had been right to be worried about her even though she never left school. She didn’t know these arms, they felt too large to be any of her friends, too large to be anyone from either the middle school or high school campuses, and no one at school would dare manhandle her like that, not when all the teachers know her and Lelouch’s worth to the Ashford family and…

 

And…

 

She flailed. Tried screaming still. If she could just get a good… grip…

 

_ No _ , her dimming thoughts shrieked at her.  _ No, no—  _ she could guess the smell now, and 

 

It

 

Was

  
  


— 

  
  


The world was wrong somehow, dark and streamlined and Nunnally looked up to see red skies with clouds passing by at high speeds, slipping through and curling like a dance, like someone increased the speed of the day on camera so she could see as the weather came and went, although the sky stayed as dim and red the entire time. 

 

Dimly, she saw the images of metallic landscapes, of two planets aligning under the light, of structures that couldn’t be real and yet existed in her mind. 

 

People. Torment. Souls. The progression of humanity, struggling ever to make their way through the landscape, dragging themselves on their stomachs if they had to and each ignoring the rest, like the rest of the people were invisible, and their journey was cold and lonely. 

 

Wobbling lines, drawn across her psyche. Images of children like an army, silent and waiting with their eyes closed and dressed like priests and priestesses of the olden days, red streaked across their faces and their bodies. 

 

The red skies, clearing, but not at the same time, like a column shooting up, made of the bodies, individuals, making their way across that barren land. Like faces and screams and hollow eyes trying to push out of something they couldn’t escape, even as the column reached ever upward into the sky. 

 

She was there, and she wasn’t at the same time. An outside observer, but one who couldn’t escape, couldn’t leave because she had to watch as the skies changed, as the landscape changed, as the children waited and waited and waited for something that she couldn’t name. 

 

A world hidden to normal eyes, just under plain sight, like a bomb set to detonate underneath a building. 

 

She saw it not with her eyes, but within her mind, the scenery clearer to her than anything she ever laid her eyes on. 

 

She saw planes in the sky, like a swarm of black dots, carrying weapons of war and ill intent, approaching and approaching and approaching through a sky blue with promise and light. People and screams and blood through the streets, and gunfire as machines of war were unveiled and tested on innocent civilians, until the sickly sweet scent of rot overtook her and the bodies dried under the unforgiving sun, with insects and carrion circling with full bellies. 

 

She saw the buildings, mostly gone, and the heat of the sun cracking a land drinking hungrily the curdled blood of the fallen, of women and children, of the elderly curled around each other in a rickus of sleep and peace. 

 

She saw and she saw and she saw, through the haze of heat on the land, as corpses littered the land as far as the eye could see, the land barren of trees and buildings and most life, as if the bodies were just scattered there to be picked up later in a place that would be out of the way. 

 

And then— there— 

 

She saw movement. 

 

Through the haze of heat and the dry desert like daze, there was movement on the land and not in the air, and she watched, intent, as figures stepped over the broken bodies littering the ground. 

 

Two figures, small. Their progress was slow, exhaustion carved into every curve and slope of their bodies, even from the distance. They were blurry and hazy, and Nunnally wanted to squint to see them better, if only she could. Except she existed and she didn’t, and there was something familiar in the postures, something almost defeated but still persistent in the steps that they took. 

 

One fell behind, and she could hear, like a whisper carried over by a non-existent breeze, “Keep walking.”

 

The rest of the words were blurred out to her, lights and colors distorted as she took in the world, the landscape of hell and blood and bodies, and two walking across the cracked and dry earth. 

 

They walked, and she followed them, and they walked, and she could do nothing but follow them with her gaze, curiosity overcoming her horror with the world. The sky was darkening, and their movements ever slowing, with predators ready to come and prey on the ready bout of food waiting for them. The figures, children, would be more easy prey to anything that wanted fresher meat, and she followed in concern, as if somehow she could keep the worst from them just because she was watching. 

 

The sky burned with red and familiar lines, grainy like a bad connection, overlaid atop the curling, rushing clouds and the planets that shouldn’t exist up where the sun should be. If she looked too hard, she might find other beings watching as well, might see the column of straining figures rising into the sky. This world and the hidden one, overlaid atop each other and existing at the same time. 

 

The sounds of crying took her attention from the almost there knowledge, and she focused on the children again— only to find she had been wrong the first time. 

 

There were three of them. 

 

One hidden away, carried, and as she turned her mind’s eye to the children, the hidden child, a little girl, turned to look directly at her with eyes that were not eyes. 

 

_ She was looking at herself _ . 

 

“Don’t cry,” the child version of Nunnally said, although the words weren’t directed at a weeping Suzaku, but turned in the direction where Nunnally was staring at them from. The little girl shifted in her brother’s arms, her legs dangling uselessly off his back even as he struggled to keep her aloft and secure as his legs trembled from fatigue. 

 

“ _ Don’t cry, _ ” the child whispered again, to her. The other two children seemed to be frozen in time, in that very moment, and the younger Nunnally, in her pink and white clothes, carried by her brother across the hellscape of corpses, was staring at her with closed eyes. 

 

No. They weren’t closed. Instead, they were staring from blackness, like the child had a void speaking through her where her eyes should be. 

 

“You’re here to change everything,” said the little girl who was her and not her. Even the world around them was frozen, silent and unmoving, the clouds now static. “For better or worse.”

 

The heavy ringing of church bells, not light and and chiming, but heavy and solitary. Once. Twice. Thrice. 

 

The child version of herself reached out a hand toward her, and the void grew stronger behind her, around her. 

 

“You can save them. Or…”

 

_ You will doom us all. _

  
  


—

  
  


“What a nice phone you have.”

 

“...so  _ quiet _ , now isn’t it nice?”

 

“Oh, you think so  _ highly  _ of him. What if he doesn’t live up to your expectations?”

 

“What other secrets are you hiding in that head of yours? What future can you see?”

 

“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere. Not until I get everything I came for.”

 

“Tick-tock, tick-tock! Time’s a-wasting and a-running out!”

 

Nunnally woke slowly, in waves, groggy and muddled and with the world turning sideways in her head as she grimaced, even her reactions like molasses as she drew back and away from the taste of copper in her mouth, her tongue dry and thick. Her hair was covering her face, she knew, from the slight tickling against her nose and down to her lap. 

 

She groaned, and worked her jaw against the dryness, only to slowly realize that there was something in her mouth, tight and uncomfortable. 

 

_ Cloth. _ Wrapped around her head as well. And fabric against the skin of her temples, against her closed eyelids. 

 

Further attempts at moving instilled waves of nausea, but revealed ropes around her arms, around her legs, and likely around her torso as well, tying her to her wheelchair. 

 

Any attempts at movement brought her attention to the almost sickly sweet taste on her lips, and the slight burn against her face— hot and cold, familiar only from one other experience in her memories. 

 

_ Chloroform. _

 

Damn it. That meant— someone had definitely taken her. Who? Did someone see her out with Cornelia and Euphemia? It was more likely that she hadn’t taken enough procautions with them, and their phones had been found, with her number on it. It meant that someone thought she might be worth something to the princesses… best case scenario. 

 

Worst case scenario, they found out who she was. 

 

She had to— to stay calm, to figure out a way out of this. Whoever it was, he had her phone. His voice was slightly familiar, but not familiar enough for her to place it while she was still whoozy. It didn’t help that Nunnally had spoken to hundreds, thousands, of people in the past several years that she could remember. That vague familiarity spoke of only having heard that voice once or twice. 

 

“—been two hours!” The voice sang out, the words sing-song and giddy. “Oh.  _ Oh. _ How interesting! You’re finally awake now, are you? Or are you sleeping still? Do tell me more about all your precious little plans, and all your sweet fears.”

 

There’s a laugh, and even through the grogginess, Nunnally now hated that voice. 

 

“Oh, you are going to be ever so interesting.” What a strange and dark undertone to the voice. “What a wonderful little pawn piece, your brother should be ever so proud.”

 

Thoughts. She knew— she had— 

 

C.C. told her about this. Explained to her, as an event she was to avoid. 

 

_ Mao. _ She knew that voice now, from the images of terror in her mind from the first time she was kidnapped by him, and tied up, and left to the loud ticking of a clock, meant to signal either her or her brother’s doom. 

 

There was no loud ticking now, no trickling of water. Instead, everything was eerily silent, leaving her with nothing to focus on but her growing panic and thoughts. 

 

What had C.C. said? Other than warnings for her to avoid Mao— 

 

“Avoid? I’m hurt! But then, she could be trying to protect me. C.C. is ever so kind, you know. So loving. Your Geass could be a danger. Yes. You and your brother are both dangers. Not just to me, but to C.C. as well.”

 

His voice was loud, hysterical, and it grated against her ears. There was a quality to it, something unstable, something dangerous, and— he was laughing now, and even his laugh had the same unstable quality to it. 

 

“Oh,” he said, and this time his voice was closer. He was walking closer then, and Nunnally could barely summon the strength to struggle in her bonds. “I never thought I’d find anything as interesting as you here, I’ll admit that. But you’re in my way, you see— you and your brother stole something very, very important to me. You’re  _ thieves _ .”

 

C.C. She told the story before, of Mao and his  _ obsession _ — 

 

“Love!” He shrieked, “It’s not an obsession, I’m doing this because I love her! And she loves me! She’s just forgotten, but that’s not her fault… no, it’s the fault of  _ yours _ . It’s the fault of that snake  _ brother _ of yours—” 

 

She couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the panic, the hopelessness, the dread and weight of fear upon her chest as Mao went on about Lelouch, because oh gods, Mao wasn’t even supposed to be here yet. She had so much time, right? Days and days, she thought she could get herself out of range in time, was only starting to build her connections and not in a rush… 

 

He could  _ read minds _ . The ultimate foe for Lelouch, C.C. explained, because he had a tendency to overthink. It was easy for him to defeat others, and it might have been easy to defeat Mao if not for the fact that her brother tended to come up with a solution to every problem he created in his own mind, or a problem to every solution, and that meant all Mao had to do was piggyback along that thought and her brother was  _ helpless _ . 

 

He was laughing again— listening in on her, no doubt, and Nunnally just couldn’t get her frantic thoughts to  _ shut up _ . 

 

The last time, Lelouch managed to— no!

 

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about C.C. and what she said. Don’t think about Lelouch, or about Cornelia or Euphemia, or about Alice, or about Sayoko, or Milly, or— 

 

“Oh-ho,” Mao’s smirk could be heard in his voice. “So many people important to you… close to you. Do you think they’d come to your rescue? Your friends? Maybe… your half-sisters?” He was laughing, and laughing— “But you doubt it, don’t you! You don’t know if they would come rescue you, or… if they would come in time. No, no, your thoughts are all over the place. They might come, they might not come… You didn’t want to involve any of them. 

 

“And…” he snickered. “You’re scared! Scared they might come after you. But more than that… oh. You’re scared for your dear big brother, aren’t you? Because you know he  _ will _ come.”

 

He clapped, the sound unusually loud in the still room. 

 

“And you know,” Mao laughed, “You know that I’d  _ beat _ him. Oh, Nunnally. You’re so sweet! So dear. You want to put yourself before everyone else, to try and keep them out of danger, even if there’s no way you can help them!”

 

And now she could hear his footfalls, as her head slowed its spinning and he stopped trying to be quiet, shoes dancing around her on the hard, echoing surface. Cement? Something smooth. Without grip. The way his voice was reverberating… a room, large, no windows and no open doors. It smelled cool in there, slightly stale like it had been left for a long time. No paint. 

 

“You’re so  _ clever _ .” Mao sounded delighted, as Nunnally tried to squish her thoughts again. “Is your brother anything like this? Oh, I’m going to have so much  _ fun _ .”

 

She couldn’t— she had to think of other things, mundane things, or else every thought she had was only going to give Mao more fuel to use against her. Against Lelouch.

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he told her, “I’ve already got most of what I need, see? I’ve been listening in. I didn’t exactly charge in here, although I admit I was a bit more hurried than what I usually do. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have taken my time more… But you did so much of my preparations for me! You thought  _ all _ about the ‘last time’ this happened. You know all about your brother’s Geass. You even know C.C.’s reactions. You have a clear memory of how things happened ‘last time’, of who was essential to the plan.”

 

He cackled, and Nunnally ducked away as she felt him circle her wheelchair, as she felt him lean in close to her at one side. Personal space! She spat at him in her thoughts. 

 

“Isn’t it so convenient,” he cooed falsely at her. “I can hear you, I can respond to you, but I can also make sure you don’t call for attention. You’re so sheltered, you know that? I knew it the moment I heard those thoughts of yours, across the crowd. And then  _ seeing _ you?” He tsked. “How no one has tried to take you before this, I don’t understand. Customized wheelchair. Customized phone. Even your clothes are tailored to fit you. I suppose all the credit goes to your protectors. They really make sure you don’t go anywhere by yourself, don’t they? At least, outside of your school.”

 

He laid a cool hand against the front of her wheelchair, close enough that she could feel his body heat brushing against her, and Nunnally cringed away. 

 

“I got lucky today~ most of your friends away, your maid out doing the shopping… and then when you told that friend of yours you didn’t need an escort!” He laughed again, loud and hearty and slightly unhinged. “Oh, but they all have so many interesting thoughts! So many deep, hidden  _ secrets _ . You most of all, but… would you like to know, Princess Nunnally?”

 

He leaned his face close to her to whisper, in a tone that she could just hear his maniacal grin in, “How about we start with that little friend of yours? Alice… was it?”

 

_ No _ , she shouted in her mind. She wanted to know, really  _ did, _ especially now that Mao brought it up, but it wasn’t right, and she  _ wouldn’t! _ She didn’t come back to dig into the secrets belonging to her friends. She only ever dug into Lelouch’s secrets long after he died, and spent years frustrated with others who refused to tell her things that strictly involved her to begin with. 

 

She didn’t want to dig into the secrets of other people— she wanted them to  _ tell _ her, fair and square, on their own volition. 

 

“Little Alice,” Mao mocked, ignoring her demands. “Not who she says she is… but you already knew that, didn’t you? You just like to pretend for her that you don’t, because it makes her feel better. Did you know, little Nunnally? Did you know that your friend Suzaku does the same, pretending that he’s blind and ignorant, like he couldn’t see everything going on around him?”

 

He chuckled. “Oh, yes. I ran into him too, briefly. That’s all he could think about, you know? His head is  _ swirling _ in these thoughts. Suspicions. Guilt. Just like you. You’re so scared of not doing anything and letting things run their natural course, but he’s scared of taking action. He’s taken action before, you see— and he  _ regrets _ it.”

 

Mao paused, as Nunnally seethed. She didn’t want to hear any of this. None of this knowledge was given to her willingly, none of it was meant for her plans. It didn’t matter once Suzaku became Euphy’s knight, and it wouldn’t matter if she could make sure to keep Euphy safe, to keep her brother safe, and to keep this madman— out! Of! Her! Head!

 

She made a loud noise of protest, of distraction, struggling in her bonds even as the fabric dug into her skin painfully. She didn’t know where she was, didn’t know who knew she was gone, but she couldn’t just give up— couldn’t just wait for rescue like last time, depending on others who would only learn that she depended on them, and then eventually go out of their ways— risk their lives— for her own, even when she didn’t need them to. 

 

She was breaking this cycle!

 

“Oh,” Mao caught on gleefully. “But I shouldn’t call you little, should I? You’re older than your big brother now, after all. Haven’t accomplished anywhere as much as him, not even a fraction, but then again you did like hiding behind the rest of your siblings as they took care of everything.”

 

Nunnally tried to lunge at him this time, unsuccessfully, the sudden hard ball of anger in her throat making it hard to breathe. 

 

“Oh, you didn’t like that,” he said snidely. “But you’re also— relieved. If I talk about you, then I’ll stop talking about other people with secrets, who haven’t entrusted their secrets to you.”

 

Mao leaned away again, although he seemed to take glee in slowly spinning her wheelchair around in circles to disorient her more, before putting on the breaks as her head spun, and he walked away. 

 

“Should I tell you about Kallen, then? Or Shirley? Maybe Milly’s secret woes and deepest fears… no, no. I should start with the darkest of them. What about Nina, then?”

 

Nunnally had always known only a portion of Nina’s pain and anguish, and she knew that her friend wouldn’t want to talk about it, wouldn’t even want anyone to know.  _ No _ . She didn’t have a right to Nina’s past—  _ no one _ had a right to Nina’s past!

 

She distinctly remembered, for a moment, a memory of the first time visiting the beach as a young and unassuming child— running around the pier and the uneven wooden docks with her arms wide about her, laughing and laughing as guards and knights tried to catch up to her, tried to make sure she didn’t trip and hurt herself, and tried to make her act more like the dignified princess she was supposed to be. Lelouch hadn’t been chasing her that afternoon, having fallen asleep in their mother’s arms from— she didn’t quite remember. Staying up too late the night previously, maybe. 

 

The sounds of seagulls were loud in her memories, each squawking over each other, and the murmur of people as they caught a glimpse of the royal family through the curtain of guards that stood in between them and everyone else. The smell of salt on the air, the blue of the ocean and the sky, and the cool breeze weaving itself into her hair, mixing with sunlight and sand. 

 

She had run, run, all the way to the edge of the docks where the biggest ship she had ever seen in her life, even in pictures, was just starting the rumbling of its engines, already so powerful that she could feel the thrum of the ground underneath her. She was so excited then, hopping from one foot to the other intent on watching the ship take off and maybe wave goodbye to it along the way. 

 

She hadn’t noticed the other people backing away slightly, or the franticness of the guards trying to pick her up even as she wove and dodged through their arms. She hadn’t noticed as their mother smiled and then gently covered Lelouch’s ears as he slept with his arms wrapped around her neck. 

 

She was so entranced by this ship, so big and so real, that the loud horns took her completely off guard— enough that she fell back on her butt and tried to cover her ears too late, the sound emptying everything else in her head as tears came to her eyes from the hurt. 

 

It likely wasn’t as loud as she remembered, but to a small child, barely out of her toddler years, it had been the most deafening and painful sound she ever heard or experienced, echoing through her skull in a persistent, neverending low scream attempting to shake her brain right out of her head. 

 

Outside of her memory of that day, Mao was also screaming. 

 

“That sound!” He wailed, as his footsteps fell disonent and stumbling. “Stop,  _ stop _ !” He huffed, and gasped as Nunnally’s memory died in her mind, “You— you fucking  _ bitch—”  _

 

_ Yes _ , she thought frantically, gleefully, he must have been trying to read too much from her, must have been drawn into her memory as well— if she could just use that, she could— 

 

She didn’t expect the sharp crack across the side of her skull, or the immediate darkness after. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy early Valentine's!  
> Okay so I had to unfollow... a lot of things this past week thanks to the movie and my insistence on as little spoilers as possible (let's be real, everything about this movie from the title to the trailer wants to spoil us), so I just gotta deprive myself of all fandom info until May.  
> This chapter marks past the 100k mark, and there is an extra special chapter next week, lol, but you can probably already tell by the end of this one. Thanks to Nunnally's actions, things in canon are starting to change, and if I do this right, things should be rippling out soon! If you're curious, I'm almost done with chapter 16, and still seeing where this story goes. A super special thank you to all the people who left kudos, comments, and/or bookmarked as well! You guys always make my day.


	12. King Sacrifice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm under the assumption Sayoko knew a lot about the siblings, even in season one. Because she's been, yanno, taking care of them for a really long time. At the same time, I wasn't so sure if Lelouch knew about what Sayoko could do (he likely never even really confirmed what she knew, because these characters don't like confirming anything, it seems, thanks to plausibly deniability), but. Look. I think he learned Japanese from Sayoko (after what he learned from that summer), and that she likely gave him slight self-defense lessons-- a friend pointed out to me that in the first episode, we saw Lelouch at least knows how to _fall_ correctly. So yes, I'm assuming here he knows a little about her but never used her in his plans because she's meant to be protecting Nunnally. In season two, C.C. mentions that Sayoko likely didn't know Nunnally's importance to Zero because she didn't know Zero's identity.  
> ....I'm not great at researching extended media for canon facts because NaNo was all about writing and not looking back, and frustrating myself trying to find tiny things that would end up being mostly fanon anyway is just. Hard. Especially with only so much free time to write and a deadline over my head.

 

It didn’t feel like the day should be as bright as it was.

 

Lelouch was numb through the funeral, watching Shirley and her mother cry, listening to empty words of platitude spoken by strangers as if it could all somehow reverse the flow of time and prevent a good man’s death.

 

It was his fault. He had no excuse for it. Not even the thoughts of war, of winning the battle, could exonerate him from this. No. He was the one strictly to blame for Joseph Fenette’s death, because he could have gone through the calculations more thoroughly, could have asked the Black Knights to induce a smaller disaster.

 

The battle took place on the mountain, and he wanted to demonstrate his power. He wanted everyone to know, back then, that he had full control of the situation— from the knightmares to the winning strategies to the very ground underneath them. He could have spent more time on the calculations to limit the damage to where the enemies would be.

 

It wasn’t as if he didn’t already know where they would be positioned. It was all so predictable, the opening moves of just another game, with the same pieces and the same strategy.

 

Were there really ‘casualties of war’ when he could spend the time to prevent those numbers from appearing on pages of the dead? Maybe if people were just in the wrong place at the wrong time— easily explainable for Joseph Fennette, who worked at Narita, but he never left his work to place himself in harm’s way. He was merely one of many who got caught up by the landslides that day, and Lelouch would have given it no other thought if not for the fact that he was Shirley’s father.

 

“Are you going to talk to her?” Milly asked him quietly after the ceremony ended, when Shirley excused herself to support her weeping mother, and Suzaku also excused himself after getting a text from the military. Kallen looked a mixture of angry and guilty, standing by herself away from everyone else as if she could wrap herself in her own isolation. Nina and Rivalz stood off the the side, looking as uncomfortable as he felt, but it was Lelouch that Milly sought out.

 

“Anything I say would ring false.” Lelouch told her bluntly. “I didn’t know anything about her father.”

 

She didn’t deny that, and the two of them stood off to the side for a while, watching as Shirley’s mother covered her face in her hands and wailed, while Shirley clung onto her side as if everything would be alright if only the two of them stuck together.

 

He looked away.

 

The bright yellow Ashford girls school uniform distracted him a moment as Milly shifted, this time bringing a hand up to his arm.

 

“But you know what it’s like to lose a parent.”

 

Indeed. He remembered his mother’s funeral vividly. It had been nothing like this one. Grand, ostentatious, and attended by hundreds of people breaking out their finest mourning garments as if they were just waiting for the chance to finally wear it, murmuring behind delicate silks or fans about the commoner Empress, struck down so quickly as if it were karma.

 

What a poor thing, they twittered. Still so young, and leaving behind two children. Who would do such a thing, they whispered in scandalized tones, as if none of them ever sneered at her existence before.

 

His own father hadn’t even attended. Lelouch himself left halfway through the ceremonies, too infuriated by the dismissive comments of the attendees and wanting nothing more than to get back to Nunnally, still in the hospital then, that he just left the rest of it to Cornelia.

 

“Just be there,” Milly suggested to him, before pulling her hand away, leaving the warmth on his elbow to slowly cool. She gave him a somber look, and then a faint smile, before turning to walk toward Rivalz and Nina, both so lost amongst the procession of friends and family while they distantly mourned the death of a man they only knew about through his daughter.

 

Right. Just be there. He couldn’t shut off the part of his brain that was still running calculations, that was still switching around numbers to fix the damage as if he could somehow give his past self the answers and demand they stick to a smaller explosion. A part of his mind was already preparing for future battles, knowing this would not be the first time civilians would be caught up in his fight.

 

At least for next time, his mind whispered coolly, there will be less civilian casualties. At least Joseph Fenette’s death meant others might be saved later on with Lelouch double checking his own actions.

 

Live and learn, he thought numbly as he made his way over to Shirley, step by step, feeling awkward in the black of his school uniform whilst others wore clothes genuine to their grief. It was so much smaller, truer, than the last funeral he attended, filled with people in silks and satins as if attending a gothic tea party rather than a funeral.

 

He faltered, stopped, three steps away from her.

 

 _I’m sorry for your loss_ . He could say. Or, _How are you holding up?_ He could reference the entire situation as a sad event, or he could direct his concern toward her in general, more genuine because he did worry about her, despite his best intentions. He could allow his age to excuse a more poignant, _This sucks._ Or he could address Shirley’s mother instead, a more formal and polite manner, to give his condolences and remark upon the kind of man who must have raised a sweet girl like Shirley.

 

He could allow them to rant to him instead, and he could spend the next few minutes listening and distracting himself from his own brain.

 

Or perhaps, like Milly suggested, he could just stand awkwardly. _Be there_. If Shirley didn’t welcome his presence, then she could dismiss him easily enough. He shouldn’t be there anyway, not when he was secretly the reason for her father’s death.

 

It was just another on the list of things that he would never be able to explain. Not to anyone.

 

“Shirley,” he greeted her quietly when she detached herself from her mother, who was supported away by other members of family. He flexed his hands, not knowing what to do with them. She looked pale and haggard, eyes red-rimmed with dried up tears and shoulders slumped defeatedly. “I—”

 

She just smiled at him, tired, and shook her head against his attempts at consolation. “It’s okay, Lulu. You don’t have to say anything. I should thank you— for being there that, um.” She looked away, eyes downcast and hair half covering her face. “Sorry. I’m the one who asked you to the opera and then I ruined it.”

 

“You didn’t ruin it,” Lelouch was quick to reassure her, but was then interrupted from behind.

 

“Shirley!” The both of them turned their attention to where Kallen had run up behind Lelouch, apparently done with her stint of self-loathing as she steeled herself into a pose most unlike the frail schoolgirl she was playing, and much more like the ace of the Black Knights. She bowed awkwardly, stiffly. “I’m so sorry!”

 

Lelouch only narrowed his eyes slightly before letting his expression fall into the same confusion as Shirley’s.

 

Rivalz, Nina, and Milly also approached, perhaps to stop Kallen but unable to.

 

“I!” Rivalz said, taking no heed of Kallen’s uncharacteristic behavior. “I’m sorry as well! For saying that I thought the Black Knights were cool when they— aww, hell. I’m sorry! I was wrong!”

 

He bowed as well, sloppy and uncoordinated next to Kallen’s textbook Japanese apology.

 

Milly and Nina didn’t say anything, although Milly did give Lelouch an unreadable look before she looked away.

 

To her credit, Shirley did make a stab at normality as she laughed awkwardly, gesturing to the two of them, “It’s okay! It’s okay. You don’t need to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong, you just… I’m glad you guys are here. I should be the one thanking you, for being here with me right now. I… I appreciate that a lot.”

 

As the others spoke, Milly made her way over to Lelouch again and brushed her hand against his wrist to draw his attention. She didn’t say anything, although she did look pointedly over at Shirley before her gaze returned to Lelouch, looking expectant. Lelouch grimaced, but at least she didn’t look— Milly was too perceptive for her own good, but she did also know when to leave things well enough alone.

 

“C’mon, gang,” she said, her voice a rictus of cheer after allowing them to apologize and then reassure each other for a few more minutes. “We need to start heading back soon if we want to catch the train. Let’s give Shirley a little longer, alright? We’ll catch up with her afterward.”

 

She herded the rest of the student council away, giving a particularly false smile when Kallen opened her mouth to ask why Lelouch wasn’t coming along, but then thinking better of it.

 

“Sorry about the others,” Lelouch said awkwardly when it was just the two of them, mostly because he couldn’t tell her sorry for other things. _Sorry about your father. Sorry for my part. Sorry, I was the one who gave the order._ Kallen might have felt guilty for being the one to press the button, but Lelouch had been the one who planned, who did the calculations, and then still gave the orders anyway while brushing off the knowledge there was a high chance of civilian casualties. Collateral damage, he dismissed at that time. Unfortunate, but inevitable in the midst of war.

 

It was nothing more than his hubris; a grand show to the world displaying what Zero could do.

 

It wasn’t a good enough reason for her father to die.

 

“No,” Shirley told him, looking just as awkward now that the others weren’t there to distract her. “No more sorries, okay? I’m— I’m sick of sorries today. You guys don’t have to be sorry for me. I just need some time. I really mean it— about the other night. Thank you.”

 

Lelouch almost grimaced, thinking of the rain outside the opera house and Shirley’s tears. It bewildered him, then, and he had been selfish enough to wonder if it was because he had been late, despite Shirley herself texting about how she would be late as well, or if it was because of something else, before she initiated the errant kiss.

 

He wasn’t entire blind and deaf to the amount of teasing the rest of the student council ribbed on him about Shirley, but Lelouch had honestly never thought of such things— didn’t have the time, and thus all their teasing had been brushed aside as just things Milly liked to do.

 

Looking back at it, he supposed she really had meant the opera to be a date rather than tickets she shoved on him because she had an extra one and wanted someone to accompany her.

 

The revelation only made him more awkward around her, not sure what he was supposed to do.

 

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to talk about it, and it was so much easier to think of anything else, rather than linger on Shirley’s feelings. It wasn’t as if he didn’t care for her, or even love her in his own way, but his life was— difficult. He already ruined too much of her life, just by association.

 

The expression on his face must have given too much away, as Shirley raised her hands in an attempt to backtrack, the expression of cheer on her face false and her tone self-deprecating, “I— I don’t mean! Well, I just—”

 

She must have meant to say something else, but her expression crumpled, lip wobbling even as she turned her face away, and Lelouch was a lot of things, a monsters amongst the titles he carried, but he wasn’t entirely heartless.

 

He took the two steps forward, but hesitated on the last step just long enough for Shirley to seek out the comfort herself, multiple scenarios about how this was a bad idea filtering through his thoughts. But it didn’t matter, just for the moment, because right now the embrace wasn’t meant to do anything, be anything, more than the comfort of one friend to another.

 

She burned her face against his shoulder, and Lelouch curled his arms around her, ever mindful of the eyes the slid away from them respectfully all around them. Right now, it didn’t matter if people were staring. Shirley was allowed comfort during the funeral of her father, even if she sought it from the worst possible person.

 

He placed a hand between her shoulder blades gently, the other cuping the back of her head, and stood quietly on guard as she shook with more silent tears. _I’m sorry_ , he wanted to say, but knew she didn’t want to hear it. This time it was an apology for future rejection, because it was the least he could do for her after all of this. She didn’t deserve any of this, and he couldn’t afford any more weaknesses.

 

He didn’t know how long they stayed there like that, but a good portion of people cleared away by then, until there was only a mere smattering of attendants, who seemed to pay them no mind as they were readying to leave as well.

 

Lelouch was only pulled from the embrace by the buzzing of his phone, and Shirley seemed to sniffle once more before she pulled back as well, looking both embarrassed and apologetic, ready to say something that might excuse herself before she thought better of it.

 

Seeing that she wasn’t going to be offended if he checked the message (most people knew better to message him during school hours, unless it was the Black Knights or someone who needed his immediate attention), Lelouch wavered on whether he should give Shirley his full attention or not.

 

“Better get that,” Shirley murmured, eyes turned away with embarrassment. She wiped at her remaining tears in one long gesture, and then attempted a shaky smile for him. “I always get irritated when you just hang up on me, you know.”

 

He wanted to smile back at her, unsure if his expression would be false, before he glanced down at the phone in his hand and frowned. An unknown texter sent a message. He would have dismissed it had his phone not buzzed again, this time showing the beginnings of a text on his screen.

 

 _You should pick up, little prince_.

 

Lelouch grit his teeth against the sudden wave of dread and opened up the text chain, only to freeze at the image sent.

 

He didn’t pull away in time as Shirley glanced at him curiously, and then leaned over to look down at his phone and gasped aloud.

 

“Oh my god,” she breathed out shakily, “Is that Nunnally?”

 

The lighting was dim, but not enough to obstruct the features of his little sister, tied up in ropes against her wheelchair, both gagged and blindfolded as well against a grey background. She was slumped over, obviously unconscious, but—

 

The phone rang, a call from _unknown_ , and Lelouch picked up immediately, his mind going a dozen different directions as he bit out a monotone, “Who is this?”

 

At his side, Shirley was staring, wide-eyed and still.

 

“Don’t hang up!” A cheerful voice, male, told him from the other side of the phone. “Hang up and I promise you’ll never find her again.”

 

“I’m listening,” Lelouch said curtly, and then placed a finger on his lips to gesture to Shirley to stay silent. She nodded, and then fumbled through the pickets of her dress as he held his hand out and mimed a phone.

 

“Don’t want you getting any ideas,” the voice said, “So I’m going to have you come directly to me. No stopping. No asking for help. Just you. I know where you are, and I know how long it takes to get here. Hang up, and you’ll never find her again. Be late, and you’ll never find her again. Pretty simple, I think.”

 

“Who are you and why are you doing this?” Lelouch asked instead, even as he took the phone Shirley handed him and opened up the text application with on hand, dialing in Sayoko’s number to tell her _Nunnally’s been taken. On phone with him. L._

 

“Me? Oh, you’ll see who I am. But you took something from me, little prince.” And here, the voice cackled, as the mere nickname made Lelouch’s grip tighten on his phone. It wasn’t a coincidence, he knew, it was a taunt. “It’s only fair I take something back! Are you ready to walk now?”

 

“Where.” Lelouch grit out, “What.”

 

“Out of the cemetery now,” the voice said. “Onto the main street. Turn south. Keep walking. Try not to talk to anyone— I’ll know! You can name the streets to me as you pass them, and I’ll tell you where to go. Go now.”

 

Was he being watched? There were no cameras around, especially in a graveyard, but there was always the possibility of aerial cameras, far enough away that he wouldn’t be able to see or detect them. If that were the case, though, the man must have already known that Lelouch had Shirley’s phone on hand as well, and that the girl was following his sudden pace even as he tried to gesture to her to stay behind.

 

“As for ‘what’... well, you stole my most precious treasure, of course! So I stole yours. Give mine back to me, and I’ll happily give yours back to you.”

 

Shirley’s phone buzzed in his hand, he held it as far away from his phone as he could to ensure that it couldn’t be heard. The message Sayoko sent back was in Japanese, and he nearly sighed in relief. He didn’t know when she thought to put a tracking signal on Nunnally’s phone, but he would have to question that later.

 

“I’m here with friends,” he told the voice, although he was already walking out to the path. “They’ll be worried if I just walk away.”

 

“Just tell them you’ve got something to do. Be convincing. Wave at them if you want. Go on, I want to hear it.”

 

Lelouch thumbed out another number on Shirley’s phone, cursing the fact that the standard phones didn’t have a Japanese input option for him to convey his message efficiently, but typed out a series of letters and numbers as a cipher that should be easy enough to read, and sent the message to Suzaku.

 

If the voice was taunting him, then there weren’t many people he could rely on in this situation.

 

He took a moment before turning to Shirley, and plastered a smile on his face even as he typed out another message to show her on her own phone screen, _Don’t call the police. Show me if Sayoko or Suzaku texts back._

 

“Sorry, Shirley,” he said, infusing the calm he most certainly wasn’t feeling into his voice. “Guess I’ll have to cut this short. Looks like something else came up. I’m sorry to leave so soon, but…”

 

He nodded as she stared at him, gesturing for her to speak even as she accepted the phone back. “U-uh. Yes! Sure thing, Lulu. I’ll just—”

 

He shook his head, gesturing for silence again and she cut off, looking terrified as the voice laughed cruelly against his ear, just loud enough that she might guess the sound.

 

The voice wasn’t watching, then. Just listening over the phone. That meant it already knew where Lelouch was going to be from prior information. News that the student council was travelling to attend the funeral of Shirley’s father wasn’t widespread, but it certainly wasn’t a secret either. All their teachers had known of their absence. It was likely Rivalz would have explained to classmates why they would be missing, and who know how information traveled from there.

 

Taken an important thing? His mind flashed back to the various nobles he won against, but couldn’t find a single name that would jump out at him. Certainly no one who would resort to kidnapping a little girl— he specifically stayed away from those types. Had he stolen anything? Taken, yes, recently under Geass but in a manner that was trace amounts and unnoticeable, to fund the Black Knights. Before that, his chess matches were all legitimate wins.

 

“Out on the streets yet?” The voice mocked, and Shirley jogged to catch up with him, despite his frowns. “It shouldn’t take you that long. Tick-tock, tick-tock! Time’s a-wasting and a-running out!”

 

“You would know?” He asked. Tall, then, very likely. He was walking at a faster pace than normal, and he wasn’t quite at the streets yet. The man behind the phone was efficient at hurrying him, if nothing else. Giving him no time to plan, no time to do anything than hurry to do what he said.

 

The stranger didn’t answer, but continued to give him directions to follow, leading them to a train station.

 

“Take it,” the man said. “Westbound. Try not to talk to anyone on board, will you? I’ll know.”

 

Lelouch seethed, his panic rising. Did that mean this man had people on the train who would be watching him? Or a camera? If that was the case, then Shirley would definitely give him away— not that he had been able to convince her to leave, given that he couldn’t actively _say_ anything to her without a chance of the man on the phone over-hearing.

 

He stared at her, with her black mourning dress and her bright orange hair spilling against her pale, pale face, and faltered for just a moment.

 

What was he thinking? He didn’t want to get Shirley involved in any more of his life anyway, not just because of the man on the phone. She lost enough already because of him.

 

She must have seen the expression on his face, because Shirley’s lost expression hardened and she mouthed ‘no’ at him several times, miming stomping her feet before turning her attention to her phone to type out a message to him and then showing him, _I’m not leaving you!!! Tell me what to do and who to contact!_

 

He took the phone away from her to add a message underneath hers, _They’re watching on the train._

 

She paled further at that.

 

“Whatever you want,” Lelouch told the voice calmly. “Just tell me. Nunnally is innocent.”

 

“Oh! _Oh!_ ” Here, the voice laughed, loud and unhinged, enough for Shirley to cringe back as she heard it. “But she’s not that innocent, is she? Or don’t you know? Go on, tell me why she’s innocent, then. Maybe I can correct you on some things. I have a feeling I’m really going to enjoy this.”

 

The train came, loud over the speakers, and Shirley backed up several steps before her eyes hardened in determination. He was going to protest when she stepped away from him, keeping eye contact as she entered the next train car instead, and gestured down to her phone.

 

She’d keep him informed of messages, then.

 

He didn’t want her to stay, could have just asked for a favor and taken the phone with him himself, but she was already out of his reach, and if there really were people or cameras watching his movement now that the train door was open, then he would have to act as inconspicuous as possible.

 

With any luck, Sayoko would be faster than him, if Nunnally’s phone was on her person. That would be blind luck, however— it made more sense for the kidnapper to call him from her phone rather than another one, if that was the case.

 

If not…

 

He tried to run through the scenarios in his head, left with nothing to do but think and listen to the man’s breathy giggling over the phone.

 

“I’m on the train,” he informed the man, and then let his expression drop into a scowl as he scanned the afternoon crowd around him. Between lunch break and rush hour, there were only seven other people in the train car with him, all minding their own business. It was far more likely that there was a camera somewhere. That meant Shirley would have to be careful as well, hopefully passing as just another passenger and keep her head down as to not be identified by cameras. If the man on the phone had known where he was to start with on this journey, then he would very easily recognize Shirley’s features. “Now will you tell me what you want?”

 

“Thief.” The man informed him gleefully. “Don’t you know? You stole C.C. from me!”

 

He stiffened, sitting up straighter. C.C.? His thoughts darkened instantly. _That witch,_ he thought, almost shaking with the force of his anger, _she promised she wouldn’t bring danger to Nunnally!_

 

“That’s right,” the man drawled out. “Oh, I wanted to see your expression for myself when I told you that. I must have been too impatient. Sorry, sorry~ I’ll wait for the rest of it, I promise! It won’t be half as fun if you’re not right here, after all.”

 

Who was he? Lelouch flipped through the mental possibilities, all of it ranging from a relative to another contractee, a previous scientist to a conspirator. She never spoke of her past, and he thought to leave her painful memories be, but it seemed that kindness was a mistake.

 

“I didn’t steal her.” He informed the man through gritted teeth. “Whatever she is to you, you can have her.”

 

Cruel, but that was the truth. Compared to Nunnally, Lelouch was ready to throw away anyone and anything.

 

“But she won’t come back with me on her own, will she,” the man mourned uncharacteristically, “you must have done something to her. _Brainwashed_ her.”

 

No matter his relation to C.C., what exactly did the man know? His taunts earlier implied he must have found out about Lelouch and Nunnally’s pasts somehow, or had an inkling of it, and with C.C. now close to his work with the Black Knights, there was danger in that knowledge leaking out as well. She never claimed to only be contracted to him, after all. If that were the case, then how many others did she harbor? It couldn’t have been that many, not after her stint with Clovis.

 

Should he admit that he didn’t know where she was at the moment? Or bluff? Mention Geass? The man was chatty, enough to reveal more information on his own if Lelouch kept silent. He didn’t know how far he had to travel, or what was waiting for him at the end destination.

 

He couldn’t contact the Black Knights about this, and with him constantly holding his phone to his ear in case he missed an instruction from the kidnapper, it was Shirley who held Suzaku and Sayoko’s contact information right now. He refused to drag Milly into the problem unless there was no other option left, and that exhausted his limited amount of people to trust with information about his past.

 

For a moment, he thought to get Shirley to contact Kallen— she would surely be able to do something, and if Nunnally’s life was in danger, then he would rather his little sister lived even if it meant Kallen would end up learning too much about them.

 

But no. He couldn’t fully trust Kallen yet, not when she was only loyal to Zero, and held so much hatred in her heart still for Britannia. He didn’t have the time to make her understand that it was the empire itself, it’s values and eager mix of classism and racism, that deserved her hate rather than even the individuals. That the best case scenario would have been targeted assassination, if it had been an easier world to live in. She would not take well to the information that Lelouch and Nunnally were from the royal family.

 

But that didn’t matter so long as Nunnally was safe.

 

...No. He had to trust in Sayoko, and in Suzaku. And… he glanced over at the window that connected to the next car for a moment, and then back before he could spot her. He had to trust Shirley’s help for right now, and then somehow lose her in the crowds during his exit. Take her phone, maybe. He’d have to repay for her for that later, but Lelouch didn’t want to get her involved in more than he had to.

 

Not when they were just at her father’s funeral.

 

He didn’t have long to his thoughts, however, before the man started his requests again, “Tell me about yourself, little prince. Go on. How did you meet my beloved C.C.? Did she find you? Or did you find her? Don’t lie, now. I’ll know if you lie. I always end up knowing.”

 

 _Is that your Geass?_ Lelouch wanted to ask, but didn’t dare to. _Another ability, perhaps?_

 

C.C. had been under the watch of scientists for… years, maybe. What if they managed to replicate something? He didn’t have all the information here, and that fact frustrated him.

 

“Neither.” He admitted reluctantly. “It was a chance meeting.”

 

An easy way out of the story that was the Shinjuku Massacre. It was not a memory he liked to dwell upon.

 

“And what else?” The man over the phone insisted. “Go on, talk to me. Your sister is very quiet over here, you know. I’d get bored. I don’t know what I’d do if I get bored.”

 

The threat was implicit, and Lelouch grit his teeth as he started on a abridged and censored story about how he and C.C. met— with enough truth, and descriptions to draw it out, but without details that might implicate him more than he was already implicated.

 

It was about fifteen minutes before the voice instructed him to get off the train, and he saw Shirley do the same in the corner of his eye, although she was hushed and on her own phone. If he was lucky, she got into contact with Suzaku or Sayoko; if he was unlucky, she called Milly or any other member of the student council. He trusted that she wouldn’t call the authorities like he asked, but he had been too rushed to leave many other details.

 

Whoever was on the other side of their phone, the distraction methods were working to push him off his planning, and Lelouch frowned at that knowledge. It wasn’t that he didn’t come up with various methods of taking back his little sister in the past fifteen minutes, but they all involved outside help, at least until he had more concrete information about the kidnapper.

 

If possible, he would have just thrown C.C. at the man to get him to leave, except there was something about the way he spoke her name— something almost dreamy, and altogether ominous and eerie. Something that made him feel that letting him go with C.C. would be the cruelest thing he ever did.

 

It was still tempting, in the face of Nunnally in danger.

 

Shirley shuffled along behind him, ending her call and attempting to pass her phone over to him as discreetly as possible through a move slipping it directly into his hand as she passed by, and he couldn’t help being impressed even as he glanced down to see the message awaiting him.

 

_Can’t reach Suzaku. Sayoko is here. She left a message I can’t read. Milly called, I had to tell her._

 

The last part froze him for a moment, but then Lelouch continued walking in case he was being watched, never stopping in his recitations of square root numbers like the man on the phone instructed, and frustrated with with the difficulty of the meaningless oral tasks that were likely meant to distract him from planning something solid in the short time he had. More and more people involved. This was getting worse as he went along.

 

“Turn left.” The voice told him as he listed off a street name. “And keep walking.”

 

Shirley seemed to have disappeared from view, and he hoped that meant she wasn’t following him. If she was in contact with Milly, it was very likely the older girl would have told her to stay out of it. Any attempt on Nunnally had a high chance of being an attempt on kidnapping an imperial princess, which would be beyond what Shirley could handle.

 

The streets evened out into industry, with less and less people as he continued to walk and answer each one of the voice’s obscure questions, ranging from personal life experiences to intense math problems and literary analysis. He could tell that it was nothing more but distractions to keep him occupied, but it irritated him nevertheless, because it was _working_ with the threat the Nunnally if he answered wrong, and he glanced down from time to time at the phone Shirley handed him, which he tried to partially hide up his sleeve.

 

To his very high irritation, Suzaku still hadn’t texted back, or even read the message he sent. Lelouch knew that he shouldn’t rely so much on the other boy, especially since Suzaku barely made his way back into their lives. Their lives were different now, and it wasn’t like the Japanese boy was just going to— to _be there_ each time he and Nunnally needed him, not like when they were children.

 

It was something Lelouch had a hard time wrapping his head around, and he didn’t understand why.

 

He left a quick message to Sayoko to contact Milly and _stop_ whatever the girl had planned. No matter how much Lelouch usually let Milly run wild in his life, this wasn’t a time when he would tolerate divergence from his planning.

 

Not that he had a solid plan, but he was going to once he got more information. For now, work with whatever the voice said. The man seemed to be off his rocker, if Lelouch could judge by the manner in which he spoke. Mature voice, but young. Late teens to twenties, it was likely, but there were always aberrations to take into account. A slight accent, and not a Japanese one— it would be clearer once he could hear the man in person rather than over the grain of the phone.

 

He sounded childish in his mannerisms, though. Immature— perhaps unused to social interactions to a degree. That would suggest isolation, and in conjunction with his association with C.C., there was a chance he could have been a fellow test subject. That, or his connection with her spanned further than just past few years (he assumed) when C.C. had been a part of Clovis’s project.

 

One account meant he might be easily manipulated, or subjectable to sympathy, another meant a more delicate approach was needed, perhaps putting himself out as defenseless in order to invoke a sense of comradery from the beginning. The truth was subjective, after all, and Lelouch was very good at using small details to his advantage.

 

It could be—

 

The voice laughed, loud and delighted in his ear, and Lelouch had to hide a grimace as he continued to walk.

 

“You are just so _interesting_ !” The voice proclaimed. “More interesting than your sister, even, and that’s saying something. She has so many secrets, you know, but _oh_ . You have so much _more_.”

 

That was the first time he mentioned Nunnally since before Lelouch got on the train, and he bristled.

 

“Such a liar,” the voice laughed, “you lie to everyone, don’t you? Friends, family… even yourself. I mean, you lied to me. I told you to come alone.”

 

Lelouch faltered. “I did.”

 

“Keep walking,” the voice told him. “Oh, don’t worry, I won’t punish your sweet sister for this. But sending your maid after me? Tsk, tsk. Hasn’t anyone taught you to clean up your own messes yet?”

 

How had he known about Sayoko? She specialize in going undetected— there was no way any surveillance cameras or persons could have caught her. Just what kind of specialized equipment was that man using?

 

The voice laughed again. “You see that warehouse at the corner? Behind the fence? Come on in— and don’t hang up the phone yet. I don’t want you calling anyone else. And that means on that other phone, either, the one you’re trying to hide up your sleeve.”

 

 _Cameras_. He stopped bothering to hide the other phone, scoffing all the while. It didn’t matter. He had to trust in Sayoko, even if she had been spotted. So long as he had someone else, Sayoko in particular, to help him distract the man holding Nunnally hostage, then Lelouch would be able to do something.

 

First, uncover the number of people hiding in the warehouse. His glances around the facility revealed very little in hiding places, and no one he could see around anywhere. Then the equipment. Technology. In a place like this, who knew what the building was hiding. It was highly likely he was walking straight into a trap, but in the past half hour, he calmed down from that thought.

 

If it was a trap, then that’s where he was going in order to get Nunnally back. From Sayoko’s texts and reaction, he was sure his sister was missing, and from the picture, it was very likely the man here had her.

 

The laughter just continued over the phone, as if the man was listening to something greatly amusing.

 

He made his way to to past the broken fence, into the property, stepping lightly as the tension dropped away from his shoulders for a more relaxed stance.

 

It didn’t matter what the other man knew. It didn’t matter what was on the other side. He knew his own abilities, and always had plans, even if the number kept reducing. No matter what, he would rescue Nunnally. There wasn’t any other option.

 

“Oh,” the voice on the phone drew out that sound, “looks like you weren’t the only one being naughty here. Turn around. That’s right. Right now. Keep turning— stop. Yes, right there. Look, will you? Do you see?”

 

The streets were just as empty, although the majority of it was now hidden from him thanks to the fences he passed. Still, within a few moments, he spotted a hint of bright orange, and his heart dropped.

 

“Yes.” The voice told him, gleeful. “Go on, then! Invite her in! She’s too far now, she won’t make it out. I already know she’s here, and if you want to make sure your sister is safe, then you’ll have to include her, too. And to think, I was actually going to spare all your friends. So kind and thoughtful I am— but she came on her own free will! Tell her, little prince. Call her to you, if you don’t want your sister harmed.”

 

He gritted his teeth a moment, and then cleared his throat, calling out, “Shirley.”

 

It was a long moment before she dared to step out from her hiding spot, looking both guilty and scared. Her black dress was slightly dirtied, and she had her hair tied back out of the way, revealing wan skin and red rimmed eyes even from where he was standing.

 

“He says,” he had to swallow hard, because he desperately wanted Shirley away from this situation, the calm he was building already starting to fall apart around him, “he knows you’re here, and now you have to come in with me.”

 

She was shaking badly, looking terrified of the situation she got herself in, and Lelouch couldn’t help but hold out his hand. Right now, Shirley almost looked like— no. He didn’t think that Euphemia ever looked that terrified, except for when Lelouch and Nunnally were about to be sent away.

 

Shirley darted over, her steps quick and sure despite her shaking, and reached for his hand, grabbing on with both of hers, her grip sharp and cold, clammy with anxiety and fear.

 

 _I’m sorry,_ he wanted to say to her, but instead squeezed her hand back, letting her cling up to his arm and giving her phone back. Over his own phone, the man was still laughing in fits and spurts. She didn’t want to hear it anymore, he knew, which just mean his job increased to keeping her safe somehow as well.

 

“Worst comes to worst,” the man taunted over the phone. “Who would you save? Your sister? Or the innocent girl you already wronged? Oh, it’s not even a competition, is it? We already know who you’d save. But she doesn’t, does she?”

 

Lelouch kept silent, stepping forward again and this time keeping Shirley close as his mind came up with possibility after possibility, and attempts to counter each scenario.

 

The factory door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open with his shoulder, one hand still on the phone while Shirley kept a death grip on his other arm. Her skin felt cold where it pressed against him, even through his uniform, and her breaths deceptively quiet and shallow as she glanced around with fright.

 

Of course. Shirley had never prepared herself for a situation like this before. Lelouch might not have been a part of a kidnapping, but he certainly knew what to do with the countless amount of scenarios he prepared for. This was just another one, that was all. He spent years preparing for just about anything, just in case, because Nunnally wouldn’t be able to get out of situations like this herself.

 

If ever anyone found out their true identities, he knew, kidnappings would be the least of his worries.

 

“That’s it,” the voice on the phone cooed, as they surveyed the dilapidated building, mostly hollow and dusty from disuse. “Towards the alcove— yes, you’re looking at it. There’s a stairway there. Come on down and meet your sweet sister.”

 

_Walk into my parlor, said the spider to the fly._

 

The man laughed once more.

 

Lelouch turned toward Shirley and smiled at her, more confident than he felt, and somehow the smile still felt more real than it had been earlier at the graveyard. What kind of a person am I, Lelouch thought to himself, that I am more comfortable in a situation like this than one where I have to talk to a friend?

 

“Oh, how sweet,” the man said, and Lelouch was starting to believe that perhaps the voice could hear inside his head, with the accuracy that it seemed to make its comments. That would be a frightening thought, and fit all the statements regarding ‘secrets’, both from Nunnally and himself.

 

If that were the case, then how did the man not know about the texts beforehand, or that Shirley followed him? Unless the words about the train were a ruse, and the range spanned something close by, but he was confident enough that he would pick up all manners of plans long before Lelouch made his way to whatever hideout he had Nunnally in.

 

“Oh,” the voice breathed out, “Yes, you are _very_ good. Just based on that, huh?”

 

That all but confirmed his theory, and Lelouch squashed down his thoughts, focusing instead on the floor underneath his feet, on the echoes of his footsteps, and only Shirley’s frightened sounds as she moved with him, her grasp tight but starting to loosen up as she too seemed to realize that her fear would not help her here.

 

“Don’t think about anything,” he murmured to her, all too aware that the man over the phone would hear him. “Try not to think of anything at all.”

 

He couldn’t tell her about Geass. It wouldn’t make sense to her. But at the same time, maybe he should tell her now, anyway, so that the man couldn’t use that knowledge against her later. Or maybe he shouldn’t, if the mind reading trick was nothing more than a bluff that he was thinking too hard about. It was doubtful, but there was still a chance—

 

No. Clear his thoughts.

 

The stairs led down, rickety as they were, and there was dim lighting in the direction they were going, the very same lighting he saw in Nunnally’s picture, and Lelouch pursed his lips in distaste. A wide open room, made with smoothed over concrete, bare of just about all accessories, windows, and doors— with only a few things drawing his eye.

 

Shirley drew in a sharp gasp.

 

Nunnally sat at one end of the room, the same as in her picture, still tied up and gagged and blindfolded, although this time there was blood running down the side of her head, matted in her hair. Lelouch felt himself grow furious at the sight. She was hurt— and why? Why would anyone need to, want to, hurt her when she was already so tightly bound?

 

The question drew his eye to a man, tall and clad in white with East Asian features clapping slowly as he sat languidly on a worn wooden crate, grinning widely with his eyes hidden behind a viser and ears underneath a large set of headphones. Surrounding him were various items, unboxed, parts, and— weapons of all kinds. A pile of guns, from pistels to semi-automatics. Knives. Axes. A pile of, from what he could see, land mines.

 

His eyes drew back to his sister, now recognizing the contraption near her for what it was now.

 

A bomb, strapped to what looked like a timer, with the wires running up to and surrounding her chair like a parody of holiday lights.

 

“Bravo!” The man stood up, clapping his hands enthusiastically, as Lelouch finally lowered his phone. “You made it in quite the timely manner. And I didn’t even get bored. More entertaining than your sister, and that really is saying something. She had _so_ much to say, did you know?”

 

Lelouch refused to acknowledge that last part. Not until later, when he could beat down the man’s corpse for whatever slight and harm he caused Nunnally. “I came alone.” He said coolly. “As you already know. Shirley isn’t supposed to be here. You can let her go now. You have all the weapons here, and I wouldn’t be able to get away, isn’t that correct?”

 

Shirley didn’t like that at all, if the nails digging into his arm were any indication, but Lelouch would rather her take Nunnally and _go_ than any other options.

 

That was the best case scenario right now, and unlikely to happen.

 

“I couldn’t refuse a guest,” The man drawled out, and waved them over. “And she wanted to come. Practically snuck in. Who am I to kick her out, knowing that?”

 

There were no surveillance equipment anywhere in the room, but the man moved the boxes he had been sitting on aside to reveal a gleaming chess set.

 

“She’ll be perfectly safe,” he said with a too-wide grin. “So long as you play by the rules, of course. I’ll even cater to your favorite game. It _is_ your favorite, right?”

 

The stockpile of weapons. Nunnally. The chess board. Nothing there made any _sense_ , and it unnerved him enough for him to ask, “What are you trying to prove? You’re holding all the cards, but want to play a _game_? I’ll play if you want, but why have them here?”

 

“I like an audience,” the man told him, and there was something crazed in his expression. “I like seeing people’s expressions, when they’re at the most vulnerable. Did you know? From experience, I’ve learned that the truth, the one hidden behind all those everyday lies, those are the most hurtful of all. But it’s the truth that sets us free! Isn’t that how the saying goes? And I’m good at digging up the truth. Don’t you want to know?”

 

He laughed, an arm out wide gesturing to all of them. “There is so much that you’re all hiding from each other! Each and every single one of you. Don’t you want to know, little prince? Just what exactly your precious little sister is hiding from you? And you, Shirley Fenette? Wouldn’t you like to know what your precious Lelouch is keeping secret?”

 

“That is _enough_.” Lelouch snapped, shaking off Shirley’s hold in his anger. He glared hard at the viser covering the man’s eyes. If only that weren’t in the way…! “Leave them out of this. If you want C.C., then why don’t you search for her yourself? Why drag all of us into this? She doesn’t listen to me, you know— she doesn’t listen to anyone!”

 

True, and yet not at the same time. C.C. had been oddly receptive to his requests lately, although Lelouch wasn’t sure why. He assumed boredom at first, but now with this man, he couldn’t help but wonder if it might be something more nefarious.

 

It didn’t help that she seemed to disappear yesterday, although he hadn’t worried then. If she found somewhere else to stay, then it would only be better for him.

 

Shirley seemed to mouth the name in confusion from his side, but he paid no attention to that right now.

 

“If she doesn’t listen to anyone, then why is she helping you?” The man, whose face had been a rictus of a grin before, contorted his features into something monstrous. “Why is she with you, when she promised to stay with me? No, no— you must have _done_ something. My C.C. would never do this. She would never abandon me, would never— what’s this? Prince Clovis?” He tilted his head curiously, never losing that macabre look. “Project R?”

 

Lelouch grit his teeth. _Stop looking into my head_.

 

“I’m afraid that’s impossible, little prince— didn’t she tell you? What happens when you make a contract with her?”

 

“Lulu,” Shirley whimpered beside him, phone still in hand although she was staring hard at the crazed man in front of them, too scared to use it in case he did something awful if she did. “What… what is he talking about?”

 

“Yes, yes, what _am_ I talking about!” The man gesticulated, and then indicated that he wanted the both of them to come over. Now. Lelouch was going to refuse for Shirley’s sake before a gun was pulled on them. “Come on, then. Let’s have a wager. You’re good at chess, aren’t you? You’ll have to forgive me, I don’t know this game that well…” he paused, and then hunched over a bit, gun pressed to his chest as he snickered, “...Not! But it’s true, I’ve never played before. Go easy on me, would you?”

 

“Why should I play?” Lelouch asked. He glanced over at Nunnally, at the blood, and then the explosives. He didn’t look at Shirley yet, even as the two of them approached the makeshift table and chess board. “If this is a delay tactic—”

 

“Maybe I just want to know how you tick,” the man drawled with a grin. He spread his arms. “Come on, teach me. You play black, don’t you? _Black prince._ ”

 

“Shut up.” Lelouch gritted out, tense as Shirley cringed next to him.

 

“We’ll play for capture. Each piece I capture means I get to reveal one secret. Each piece you capture means…” The man smirked. “I deactivate one bomb each time.”

 

Lelouch darted his eyes to look over at Nunnally. So there were more bombs, then. Likely set around this compound, or at the very least, around this room. It was probably enough. The piles of weapons were a great proof that the man clearly had a stash. His fingers hovered over the call button on his phone.

 

“Ah-ah-ah!” The visered man waved a finger at him. “No calling for reinforcements just yet! Win the game, deactivate the bomb around your sister, and all of you get to walk out of here, safe and free.” He tapped his chest, and then pulled his coat to reveal wires and electronics strapped to him. “I’m the one with the detonators. If you want your sweet sister to get out of this alive and in one piece, then what I say goes.”

 

 _Delay_ , he thought and then wiped that from his mind a moment later. From the man’s smirk, he might have caught the thought anyway. Definitely a telepath, there was now no other option for it. He could read people’s minds, but could he send his thoughts out?

 

...It didn’t look like it. Limited, then. Not only in range, but in direction. He’d have to—

 

“Not so fast. Game first.” The man insisted, and stood to the side with the white pieces. The sound of the safety clicking off was eerily loud in the room. “Now. I won’t say please.”

 

Lelouch scowled, but stepped over to the black side. Fine. If it was a game a chess, he just had to— no. He couldn’t think up strategies. Couldn’t go through his reasonings. He would have to play by instinct… somehow.

 

The man hunched over with his laughter, white bangs falling across his face in fractured geometry, giggling to himself even as he gestured toward Shirley, who had been trying to back away unsuccessfully. “Now then, Miss Fenette… should I explain things to you? Didn’t you always want to see one of Lelouch’s infamous chess matches? And your phone— on the table. You too, little prince.”

 

She shook her head rapidly, and then gathered up the courage to say, “If… if you set off an explosion in here, you’d be caught in it as well.”

 

“ _Phones_ .” The man reiterated, now dropping the maniacal grin for something more intense. “Don’t try to distract me. Don’t you know? I already know all about your little calls, your little texts… but that won’t stop me. You’re lucky I don’t mind! The more people who know, the higher the chance that C.C. will— ahh. But you don’t know about her, do you, _Shirley?_ ”

 

“White starts,” Lelouch reminded the man, placing his phone gingerly on the table. Shirley hesitated, but stepped forward to do the same, following his lead.

 

“Oh, your discrete calls. It doesn’t matter. No one will pick up, anyway. It really doesn’t matter too much to me whether you try to call out or not. The moment you stepped in, I activated a jammer. Funny little thing. Given to me by a very, very sad little woman. But that’s a story for another time.”

 

The man moved a white pawn. “King’s Pawn Opening… that’s what this is, right?”

 

Lelouch didn’t answer, moving a black piece in return.

 

“What do you think, Miss Fenette?” The man asked, moving another piece without thinking about it. “Do you know the game? Ah-ah! No sneaking away now. You don’t want anything to happen to darling Nunna, do you? You shouldn’t fret so much— after all, you were the one who wanted to come along. You thought you could _do_ something, didn’t you? That maybe if you could make yourself useful to darling _Lulu_ , then he might give you the time of day.”

 

Agitated, Lelouch moved another piece, and snapped, “Don’t go through her thoughts.”

 

He didn’t want to think on— wouldn’t think about—

 

“How do you know all this about us?” Shirley asked, a portion anger and indignation, and another portion terror. “Taking Nunna… doing this to Lulu… you’re a _stalker_.”

 

“I don’t care about _them_ ,” the man corrected, moving in response to Lelouch’s piece. “I told your Lelouch this before over the phone— they’re _thieves_ . They stole something from me, something most precious, and I’m just trying to get it back, that’s all. I’m not the bad guy! I’ve never taken anything that wasn’t taken from me _first_.”

 

 _Liar_ , Lelouch thought as he moved in response.

 

“It’s true!” The man snapped at him, also moving a piece. Within seconds, the match was well underway with the taller man having hardly studied the board at all. “Oh, you needn’t be so angry. Just because you can’t—” Lelouch moved his rook to a more advantageous position, and the white-haired man gave a slow smile in response before knocking a black pawn over with his own, picking it off the board, “—use your power on me.”

 

Lelouch cursed lowly, but then moved to capture a white pawn as well.

 

In response, the man grinned and reached into his coat, throwing one of the detonators across the table. It skid over inelegantly, spinning several times before slowing to a stop. Lelouch made no move to grab it, eyeing it for a moment before dismissing it now that it was outside of that man’s arm reach.

 

“Should I explain it for you?” The man asked Shirley. Lelouch didn’t look in her direction. “‘Power? What power?’ Why, it’s the same one you’re suspecting me of. Oh, yes. I have a power, too. A different one. That’s why I know exactly what you’re thinking— exactly what he’s thinking. Exactly what his darling little sister, liar that she is, thinks as well.”

 

He tapped at his temple, strangely somber for just a moment as he moved another chess piece. “You’re right— I _can_ read minds! Raspberry pink, thirty-two, that time when Sophia tried to read your diary… good enough for you? And that’s why— oh, _Lulu_ , don’t you know? That’s why you won’t be able to beat me at this game. I don’t even need to know the rules. You already know all of it for me! It’s absolutely fascinating. Every move you make, you think up half a dozen different counters, even noting which one’s the best for me to play.”

 

He _wasn’t_ — he wasn’t trying— he was trying _not_ to—

 

But he couldn’t afford to _lose_. No matter what that man revealed to Shirley, he needed to take all the detonators away. That was his first priority.

 

He moved again, and the man grinned and countered immediately, capturing another pawn. “That was so fast, too— I wasn’t even done explaining the first secret to Miss Fenette! I hadn’t even gotten to _your_ power yet, which is what you really want to keep hidden, isn’t it? But I’ll be nice. I’ll say the first secret I revealed… was mine. Now it’s yours. We’ll take turns!”

 

Lelouch captured another pawn, and the man threw another one of the detonators at him, the plastic skittering across the table.

 

“If you think my reading your mind is abhorrent,” the man told Shirley gleefully. “Then you’ll be pleased to know that your precious Lulu can do so much _worse._ All I can do is hear thoughts— but him. He can _change_ them. Worse than that. He can make anyone do anything he wants— even kill themselves. Isn’t that right? And all he needs… is eye contact.”

 

The man giggled, turning his attention from Shirley to Lelouch, “How many have you killed with this power so far? I mean, just _directly_. Ten? Twenty? Just on the first day?”

 

“ _Shut up_.” Lelouch told him, and they played another series of moves before he hesitated. Paused. Watched the board carefully.

 

“Lulu?” Shirley asked him hesitantly, but he couldn’t afford distractions right now, not when that man seems to have backed him into a corner. It was alright, though, he could think his way out. He knew the solution to this problem, even if it took five moves, but— “Don’t worry. I know he’s lying.”

 

The man opposite them laughed. “Oh! You really do think I’m lying! You think I’m a _freak_ . What salacious words you use in your own head. How very rude. You’re nowhere near as nice as you like to make people believe you are, aren’t you? How about it? Should I reveal one of your secrets to your darling Lulu? What about for the next piece I capture? I’ve got so many left. Let me prove to you that I’m the only one in this room not a _liar._ ”

 

He opened his coat to reveal another five detonators as Lelouch tensed, and pointed his gun at them with his other hand.

 

“Don’t try anything funny now. Finish the game, little prince. I know how this goes. I’ve learned enough about the first time around, you see. She just couldn’t stop thinking about it— all the little details, all the things that others warned her about. All about how you prepared the last time and what you did… so I decided I couldn’t let you prepare this time around. No best friend to count on, no method to prepare and lie to yourself about… I even made sure that this would be a direct confrontation! I so wanted to turn your friends against you, but… no. No, no, this is much better. No time for your to prepare and learn anything.”

 

None of what the man said made any sense, and so Lelouch pushed the speculations and confusion to the side as he studied the chess game instead and felt as Shirley slid up next to him, her trembling evident even in the slight distance between them.

 

Five moves to get himself out of the corner, but that meant— he tried to squash down the thoughts, but it was no use as the man laughed.

 

“Oh! Oh! You really are your own worst enemy, aren’t you? Always looking at the worst case scenario, even when you know that I can _see_ it! It’s funny… I didn’t think I had enough time to figure you out yet, but… you’re the type of person who can never defeat me. You can’t, because you can’t stop it, can you? There’s a part of you… always criticizing your own moves, your own decisions… coming up with the best counters to the very own problems you create for others… You even come up with counters to yourself! Every move, every counter move… I know what you’re afraid of, I know where you don’t want me to go, what you don’t want me to do!”

 

“Stop it,” Shirley insisted, “Stop this. I don’t know what you want, but leave Lulu and Nunna alone! What do you want? Money? Recognition? We’re all just students, why won’t you just let us _go_.”

 

The man snarled, and then moved to take another black piece, throwing it on the ground besides him.

 

“Don’t play so innocent here. Doesn’t he deserve to know just how self-centered you are? Or how much of a coward? You knew he wouldn’t say yes to a date, so you deliberated worded it in a manner that could pass as friends, didn’t you? And then, boo-hoo, your daddy died, too bad so sad, but rather than just mourning for him— you _used_ your father’s death! What kind of a girl are you, Shirley Fenette, that you would use your father’s death as an excuse to kiss your crush?”

 

Shirley’s trembling was so prominent that Lelouch didn’t have to look over to see it. “That’s not— I didn’t—”

 

“You _did_ ,” the man insisted.

 

“Don’t listen to him.” Lelouch insisted, distracted. He could sacrifice a few more pieces that might be important later on, or he could keep at a pace that would ensure his chess pieces were safe, that Shirley wouldn’t be subjected to more of this, but that had a high chance of costing him the victory. What mattered was that he capture as many of that man’s pieces as possible, or he _won_. Win, and then figure out how to get out, because he doubted they would just be allowed to walk out on their own. “He lies just as much as anyone else.”

 

“How rude,” the man responded without much bite, sounding gleeful. He took another black piece, and grinned even as Lelouch felt himself relaxing knowing the bait had been taken. It didn’t matter what the man said— all he had to do was win the game first. There were other things to think about, but he couldn’t afford to let his mind wander, not when the enemy in question could read his thoughts.

 

Lelouch aimed for another white piece, and the man surrendered another detonator gracefully.

 

“To answer your earlier question,” he told Shirley, who was still sputtering and breathing hard besides Lelouch, hardly able to handle being accused of wrongful intentions and behaviors, “those two are easily worth the highest in ransom if I were going for ransom. _Lelouch Lamperouge_ . _Nunnally Lamperouge_ . What awful names. Did you just throw a dart at the first words you could find? Should I tell you something that your precious Lulu and Nunna are hiding from you? Oh, and _Milly_ . She knows, too. And Suzaku! That’s quite the club there. Half your student council, _hiding_ something so very important. Don’t you want to know what it is?”

 

“No,” Shirley answered quickly, while Lelouch couldn’t help plotting various methods of getting that man’s thick viser off. He didn’t know how fast or strong the other man was, but if his power is nothing more than reading minds, if he couldn’t assert power over someone else, then once the detonators were off…

 

“You mean to say you’ve never wondered about them?” the man asked Shirley, clearly more interested in the depths of her mind at the moment, and Lelouch grabbed those few precious moments to himself. “You really haven’t! Their mannerisms, knowledge, movement… even penmanship. Just a good upbringing, right? Must be good teachers. Even though both Milly Ashford and Kallen Stadtfeld aren’t held to such high standards. You never wondered about their names? _Lelouch_ and _Nunnally_.” His tone was mocking, drawing out the names in an ugly manner.

 

Lelouch already knew where this was going, and an old panic resounded through his chest. Geass was one thing, an infinitely more horrible thing, but this was a secret he had nightmares of coming to light.

 

“How is it that no one around you has ever wondered about those thin guises?” The man lamented. “What terrible disguises! Their Royal Highnesses Lelouch and Nunnally vi Britannia supposedly dies in Area 11, and then Lelouch and Nunnally Lamperouge pops up at a school there… and no one notices?”

 

He couldn’t help it. He glanced over at Shirley, who had gone white as a sheet.

 

“Your siblings must not have looked very hard for you,” the crazed man said with a giggle. “My condolences! Is this why you’re fighting for Japan? I mean, you must feel some responsibility. Britannia only attacked as hard and fast as it did because they were trying avenge their dead prince and princess.”

 

“Shut up, _shut up_ ,” Lelouch growled out. His heart was racing, the useless fear and anxiety racing through his veins, a childish terror roiling through him at the thought of more people knowing, of being taken back kicking and scream, to be separated from Nunnally, the two of them sent to separate ends of the world as political hostages yet again, used as excuses _yet again_ , thrown into war-zones and expected to die for an empire and a family that couldn’t care less about them. He slammed balled fists against the table, the heavy chess pieces wobbling at the impact. “Stop making them out to be the heroes! _They attacked us first!_ They were actively trying to kill us! _He_ wanted that excuse— if the bombs dropped accidentally killed us, then _he_ would have the excuse for all-out war!”

 

“What daddy issues,” the man cooed, and Lelouch sneered at him. Vindictively, he captured another white piece, and the man only shrugged before releasing another detonator, and tossing it across the table, the plastic clinks loud against the sudden silence before it fell off the table and bounced on the concrete floor, rolling to a stop by Lelouch’s feet.

 

“Lu...lu…?” Shirley questioned, before she dropped to the ground, her legs having failed on her. He turned to look, panicked for a moment that something terrible happened to her while he wasn’t looking, while he had been caught up in that man’s madness, but the girl only looked dazed.

 

“Oh, please,” the man scoffed, “that one wasn’t even that shocking. All your little secrets, and everything you keep hidden is so _little_ and _petty_ . You know to know what’s surprising? What’s surprising is just arriving here, just surveilling the area, and then hearing someone in the crowd very clearly plotting against you! Normally I wouldn’t notice or care, you see, but it’s like having your name shouted out in a crowd of people, in a crowd of noise. You _notice_. You turn, and you start paying attention. Someone out there knew me, and someone out there was thinking about ways of using me to further their goals.”

 

Lelouch ignored him, playing another move to get his pieces closer to a capture.

 

“I couldn’t let that happen,” the man gleefully told Shirley, who looked like she was attempting to inch away until he pointed the gun at her, and then decided better and shifted to point the gun at Lelouch instead. “Oh. _Oh_. That’s fun! He calms down when his life is being threatened, do you know that? I get to say that, right? That’s not a secret— he doesn’t even register it himself! What a curious thing.”

 

“Leave him alone,” Shirley snapped, now stepping forward.

 

“And you get so much braver when his life is threatened in place of yours,” the man cooed, and laughed.

 

“It’s your move,” Lelouch snapped, eying the gun. Perhaps the man was right in one aspect, he did feel calmer knowing that the gun was aimed at him rather than at Shirley, this thoughts finally slowly down to something more logical and less distressed.

 

“Is it?” The kidnapper cackled, the grip on his gun shaking, “You’re so _funny_! How do you feeling knowing that I’d be revealing your little masked persona in two moves? You’re in for a real treat, little Shirley, everything will connect together for you, and everything will make sense! But the irony— your excuses, your feelings, oh, I can’t wait!”

 

He was interrupted there by clicks, and the three of them looked up toward the staircase to see white boots slowly make its way down, with the man’s expression growing more and more enraptured.

 

The edges of long green hair appeared, and soon C.C.’s piercing amber eyes could be seen, the frown on her face more severe than her normal expressions.

 

“Mao,” she addressed the man, and then took a moment to examine the situation, eyes lingering a moment on the blood in Nunnally’s hair. “I see you’re playing again.”

 

“C.C.” The name was nearly a whimper, a worshipful whisper that made Lelouch shudder in revolution. The man, ‘Mao’, looked eager and gleeful as the green-haired witch stopped halfway across the room from them, looking bored and disappointed. “I knew you would come! I just had to find the right people, see? If I killed them, then you’d come back to me!”

 

Shirley visibly cringed at that, letting out a startled, “ _Kill_?”

 

C.C. barely spared a glance in her direction. “Are you involving civilians now? That girl has nothing to do with me. I doubt she even knows my existence.”

 

“She does now,” Mao sing-songed, and then laughed, “But if you don’t want her to know, I could kill her for you, C.C.!”

 

“How did you know we were here?” Lelouch asked, ignoring him.

 

C.C. gave him an unimpressed look.

 

“She always knows,” Mao told him, visibly brightening just at C.C.’s presence, even though he didn’t abandon his place the chessboard. He waved the gun about. “I just knew it. All I had to do was keep you long enough, you know? You and your sister. So long as you’re both in danger, then eventually, she’d find you. Maybe too late, maybe not, but C.C. always keeps her promises.”

 

Lelouch grimaced. That was right. If nothing else, C.C. had promised she would protect his life, at least until he was able to fulfil her wish.

 

“How indeed?” C.C. intones flatly, ignoring Mao’s answer. She looks back towards the man again, and says, “Leave them, Mao.”

 

“Only if you come back home with me,” Mao wheedles. “And not leave me behind again. I’ve even found us a place! Away from the war, away from everyone else, out in Australia, I just know the two of us can be happy there together. I love you so much, C.C.”

 

It was starting to get to disturbingly creepy territories to Lelouch, who snaps back, “She’s not going with you. I told you: she goes wherever she wants, and if she left you, then you’re the one chasing after her like a whining dog.”

 

Shirley seems to agree, nodding vehemently despite not knowing who C.C. was but already spotting the bits of insanity within Mao’s demeanor, especially concerning her. She was already pushing herself up off the floor, unable to stay down during this confrontation.

 

Mao didn’t seem to like their interference, aiming his gun at him. Shirley froze once more at that.

 

“You shouldn’t agree with him just like, Shirley,” Mao told them with deceptive sweetness. “Don’t you know? C.C. here has been sharing your Lulu’s bed. Isn’t that right? And let’s speed this game up a bit— he’s also the one you know as Zero, that leader of the “Black Knights”... you know, the ones who killed your dad.”

 

“You’re a liar,” Shirley’s voice was wobbling, but seemed more sure of herself this time. “You’re doing this to torment us. You were going to kill us anyway no matter if Lelouch won or not!”

 

“Of course,” Mao said matter-of-factly. “I need C.C. to come back with me— I need to make sure she doesn’t have other people holding contracts with her. That includes wonder sibling duo here.”

 

Lelouch, who had already moved several steps toward Nunnally, shifted his gaze as attention was turned on him. His thoughts were churning, things adding up that he didn’t want to see.

 

“C.C. can tell you! One extra contract is bad enough, but _two_? Now that’s ambitious, don’t you think?”

 

“Leave them out of it.” C.C. ordered, and this time she brought up a gun of her own from underneath the fold of her clothes. She looked as impassive and disinterested as usual, although her eyes were hard. “As you said, Mao. I keep my promises.”

 

He didn’t seem perturbed by the gun at all, not like Shirley, who looked like she was about to cry. “Then why did you leave me, C.C.! You said you wouldn’t leave me— that you loved me!”

 

“I made a mistake,” C.C. admitted. Her aim was steady as she walked closer to him, the click of her heels loud against the silent echo of the empty warehouse. “You couldn’t fulfil my wish, so I left. I left you alive because I wanted to spare you, and I see that was a mistake.”

 

“It was,” Mao lamented, even as Lelouch snuck ever closer to Nunnally, hoping he would he able to disarm the bomb— kick it away, do anything that would save Nunnally from the remaining detonators on Mao’s person. He wasn’t looking, but he heard as Shirley gasped aloud, and lifted his gaze just in time to see Mao sigh and swing his gun toward C.C. and pull the trigger before she could realize it wasn’t merely a threat display, the sound of a gunshot deafening and ringing through his ears.

 

The man frowned as C.C.’s body went down like a broken doll, her gun clattering uselessly to the ground as red surrounded her prone form from the wound in her head. “Oh, C.C. I didn’t want to do that. But I will if I have to. Again, and again, and again— however long it takes before you realize that you love me, and you’re not allowed to _leave_ me. I know what happens if I don’t shoot you, I know you’ll help them, and that’s a mistake, don’t you see? First time, first time… she’s always thinking about what happened the first time!”

 

It was at this point that Shirley seemed to have come to a decision, likely finally seeing now that Mao would be just as ruthless with them, especially if he just shot the girl he supposedly loved to death right in front of them. She didn’t give him any time to register her actions before she threw herself at him, knocking him down to the ground with a startled and pained yell.

 

Lelouch took this time to turn his attention to Nunnally, now finally at her side— the ropes, he found out now that he was close enough, wasn’t just to tie her to her wheelchair. He would have carried her out if he could, but she was tied down to the chair, and the chair itself was tied down to several concrete blocks— large and heavy enough that he wouldn’t be able to move them by himself. There were colorful plastic wrapped wires surrounding her person, the bomb strapped all around her, and he didn’t try to disarm it as much as he immediately tried to untangle her from the mess, fingers working deftly around the ropes.

 

She stirred under his frantic movements, inciting Lelouch to work faster. He was too far too away from the fight now to be of any use, and all the bombs were strapped down or he might have been angry enough to just throw one at Mao (alright, not likely, but the thought was there), and interfering with Shirley’s fight seemed a terrible idea. She was stronger than him, she had a better chance of keeping Mao down while he got Nunnally out of this trap.

 

“Lelouch…?” His sister whispered through the gag in her mouth, and he didn’t have time to confirm. She would know, anyway. She always knew. A yank and another heave, and he pulled the mess of plastic wrapped wires away from her, shifting a mass of them up over her head and tossing them as far away as possible. “Where…?”

 

Shirley yelled behind them, and Mao shouted triumphantly. Lelouch spared only a glance over to see him toss her away, and her head hitting the ground hard, the sound reverberating around the room in a distressing manner.

 

“You fucking bitch,” he spat out at her, and Lelouch found himself standing, ready to charge the man if he had to despite the distance, as he aimed his gun at Shirley. “You’re supposed to be the good little maiden in distress. I was going to let you live!”

 

He was about to launch himself when Nunnally gave a shout, and then, somehow, Mao shouted along with her, his aim wavering and then giving up as he brought his hands to his head, yelling in pain and distress. Shirley scrambled away from him frantically, blood coating the side of her head, and then screamed in distress as she hit C.C.’s body by accident, stopped by the corpse of the girl.

 

Lelouch didn’t have time to react, didn’t have time to do anything at all, not when Mao snapped out of it within a split second, and this time his angry grimace was turned in their direction.

 

“ _You_ ,” he spat out, and raised his gun again. “I’ll get rid of you _first_.”

 

All he could do was grab for his sister, but she was still tied to her wheelchair, and the wheelchair didn’t budge even as he shoved his weight against it, barely moved a few inches if anything at all, and Lelouch lamented for the first time that maybe he really shouldn’t have left all the fighting to Suzaku, to Kallen…

 

The gunshot was loud enough to feel deafening, and Lelouch felt like he had suddenly been hit in the back with a baseball bat, the force of it shocking for a moment. It felt like a wall of heat, and then a faint buzz ringing around his ears that drowned out everything else.

 

Then, screaming.

 

Nunnally was screaming, was wailing, and his first instinct was to comfort her. Then he registered that Shirley was screaming as well, and a second gunshot. He turned his head, movement sloppy for some reason, even as his legs collapsed from underneath him.

 

It was Shirley. Shirley, still on the ground with an elbow up on C.C,’s body to hold herself steady, holding a gun with both hands, pale with her black mourning dress and blood smeared across her face and side, shaking even as Mao collapsed onto the ground in a pose a macabre parody of C.C.’s.

 

“Shirley,” he said in shock, but then it was like the world flickered into existence from behind a haze, and he couldn’t _breathe_ , couldn’t hear over the rushing in his ears and Nunnally’s wailing, screaming his name, trying to make sure he was okay. She must be so worried— she wouldn’t have been able to see what happened, that Shirley managed to take Mao out, and waking up bound and in an unfamiliar place, hearing gunshots, that must have been terrifying.

 

Shirley didn’t wait, didn’t stall, keeping her gun ready in both hands even as she scrambled up to her feet, nearly tripping over the edges of her dress in her haste. She kept a hold on her gun even as she ran to Mao, past him, and then dropped heavily, painfully, to her knees next to Lelouch and a wailing Nunnally.

 

“Lulu,” she choked out, a near hiccup, and he could finally see that she was crying, too, except he didn’t know why. It was alarming, as alarming as his sudden struggle to breathe and that he couldn’t seem to calm Nunnally down, even when he held her hands within his own. “Lulu, don’t move— don’t— oh god, I have to—”

 

She was ripping strips off from the bottom hem of her dress, and he thought it was a shame. While black wasn’t a color that suited her, she looked elegant in it.

 

He let out a breath, coughed, and collapsed against Nunnally, the strength giving out his arms as well. His sister was screaming his name, and he moved his arms to push himself up again— still needed to free her, it couldn’t be comfortable, couldn’t be anything good, to be tied up like that. Oh… she had a gag on as well, that could be why her words were so muffled. She must be trying to tell him something.

 

Shirley must have left for a moment, because she was back the very next, with her phone in her hands, shaking even as she dialled and dialled. “There’s no— it’s not working— Hello? Hello?! Please, I need— my friend needs help— I need an ambulance—”

 

Her words were hiccupped through tears, and Lelouch wondered why, wondered why there was a burning sensation through his back and chest. His movements were slow, but he lifted a hand to touch, and felt the slick of red underneath his fingertips.

 

 _Shot_ , his brain told him. _Lung._

 

That made sense. It would explain why he was having such a hard time breathing. But Mao was down for the count, shot by Shirley, and he still had to comfort Nunnally, and there was that niggling fact that Mao mentioned C.C. having formed _two_ new contracts, and that Shirley now knew entirely too much.

 

He inhaled with difficulty, feeling almost like he was breathing in water, and looked in Shirley’s direction.

 

He hadn’t wanted to get her involved. She wasn’t meant to be there at all. He was supposed to have taken care of it, was supposed to— take care of Nunnally. Shirley wasn’t a soldier, and he shouldn’t have put her in danger in the first place. She already lost her father. She helped him save Nunnally. He had to—

 

“Shirley,” he called to her, breathing wetly, and she stared at him with wide eyes.

 

The burn of Geass in his eye snapped into place.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun facts! This entire chapter was written on the last day of NaNoWriMo, and all in one scene because I couldn't allow Lelouch time to think. I did, however, spend a day before that creating three different outlines for how this chapter would go: first with Lelouch+Suzaku, then I tried an outline with Lelouch+Kallen, and finally just Lelouch+Shirley. There are a few nods in the chapter to the outlines I tossed, like the landmines I spent hours researching because that's how Mao would have stopped Suzaku... but then I tossed anyone who could help, because Mao would have known and planned around them. Shirley got in because he didn't see her as a threat, because Nunnally doesn't know Shirley's story. Mao took a different approach based on what _Nunnally_ knew, and this time hit Lelouch hard and fast, keeping him occupied and panicked the entire time.  
> There was a LOT of cross-referencing with friends over who knew what and who would be where that didn't even matter in the end, so this one goes out to my friends for... dealing with my own dissatisfaction with my writing, and turning social hangout Friday into a 'shh let Sham write, we're debating in what situation Milly would or would not call the cops...'


	13. I Fear Not the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to post-NaNo! I hoped I would get more after, but while I have enough chapters to get us to April, I'll be taking that month off to write a bit more because even if I wrote 1k a day consistently, it's been nowhere near enough, lol. (NaNo was fiendish and I don't think I existed outside of my writing, then.) I am also back from vacation, and if anyone went to TsukinoCon this year, they might have seen me wandering around the dealer's rooms in an All Might hoodie and lingering over purchases, lol. Not sure how much writing I'll get done this week, though, seeing as I'm currently downloading Strangerville (which looks _amazing_ ).  
> We're finally back to Nunnally's POV and 'what happens after', to see where all the cards have fallen while Lelouch was busy with Mao. There's just more and more people involved now, so she's going to have to step lightly... or harder than ever.

  _I failed._

 

_I failed, I failed, I failed!_

 

Nunnally could feel it on her person, even as she struggled against the ropes tied around her. She could smell it, the only thing left to her in the world: blood, blood, _blood_ , and she knew, could feel herself half back in her memories, back to that day with the crowds and with Zero, standing up high with blood on his sword and on his mask.

 

She couldn’t move, could do nothing but wail and scream as she felt the familiar warmth of blood on her person, could hear as Shirley cried, felt her brother’s hands on hers.

 

This couldn’t be happening! She was so confident she could change things, so worried about the— _silliest_ of things— wondering how Lelouch would react to what she knew, to the fact that she now had a Geass— she hadn’t even worried too much about Mao, because her brother had defeated him last time, had been—

 

Mao learned everything from her. _This was her fault_. She didn't know what happened, except she already knew too much, and she heard the gunshots, and no matter what happened, everything that went wrong was all because of her, and Mao never managed to cause so much damage last time, so it must be because of her this time. It was because of her. It was her fault!

 

I have to go back, she thought numbly, painfully. I have to go back and do this again, I have to go back further, I can change things, I just know it!

 

Shirley was shouting, and there were thuds— footsteps?

 

She struggled even harder, screaming muffled through her gag. Other sounds, alarmed, people, and everything felt like it was swarming together for her, a twisted nightmare as her head pounded, ears still echoing with the gunshots and her brain struggling, struggling to deactivate her Geass.

 

Go back— stop it, start over!

 

“...quick… side!”

 

“—shock, get her out of—”

 

“...another… body!”

 

She screamed until hands came toward her, screamed until her throat felt scrapped raw, and then she struggled, pushed with her Geass, tried to get out, remembering when people had to carry her away from her brother the first time, and she didn’t want to go through that again— the hands worked at her bindings, at the ropes, at the—

 

 _Bright_. Her eyes hurt. Her face hurt. Everything was blurry and oh so bright, and faces swirled into her view until she could make out Sayoko— worried, kind, teary-eyed Sayoko who looked younger than Nunnally remembered, who looked astonished.

 

There were hands still working on the ropes around her as Nunnally glanced around, her blurry vision taking in the grey concrete around her, the desolate surroundings, a crew of people surrounding Shirley, who looked dazed and scared, a body on the ground, and—

 

There were two people around her brother, unconscious, her brother who was down on the ground right in front of her, not five feet away, skin pale and wan, handled by two strangers. They were cutting through the black of his school uniform, and his white shirt underneath— oh god— the blood on white—

 

She fell toward without the ropes to hold her up, barely noticing as Sayoko shouted out in alarm and caught her, and the world fell dark.

  


—  

  


She wakes in a daze, slow and careful, and then—

 

All at once.

 

She sat up, eyes wide as she stared at the room. It was the familiar setting of a hospital, and Nunnally despaired a moment for the timeline she lost, and then looked down.

 

Hands, a bit smaller than she remembered, and underneath her still white hospital sheets, the shape of her legs were shorter than thinner than she remembered. Around her, the room looked different— smaller, less ostentatious than the ones at Pendragon, or even any near the transports of the royal family. It looked like a proper hospital room, albeit larger than normal, especially with hers as the only bed in the room.

 

And there, strands of pink as—

 

“Nunnally!” It was Euphemia, it was _Euphemia_ , and there was no way Nunnally was back in the future, or out of her dream, or whatever it was. She stared at her sister for a long second, eyes wide and taking in the details of a sister she never got to see before Euphie died. A bright, cheerful dress and hair tucked away in an unfamiliar style, although it looked like she had a cap with her as well if the hat on her lap was any indication. The cheerful pink hair and bright blue eyes, worried, ever so worried—

 

Nunnally felt herself tearing up. The last thing she remembered—

 

 _She failed_.

 

“You’re okay,” Euphie was murmuring to her, stroking her hand and staring wondrously at Nunnally, “you’re okay. You’re— I never thought I’d see your eyes again. I just…”

 

“Where’s Lelouch?” Nunnally choked out, because she had to know. She had to see him, had to, because it had been her fault last time, and now it was her fault again, in a far more direct manner, and she _had to see him_.

 

Euphemia’s expression fell, and Nunnally inhaled a sobbing breath.

 

“No,” Euphemia insisted, leaning over Nunnally’s bed now, shaking her head and holding onto her hand with both of her own, “No, no, that’s not— he’s still in surgery. It’s not good news, but…” She bit her bottom lip, eyes glancing away, “he alive.”

 

The tears gathering in her eyes didn’t go away, but she cried for a different reason now, because maybe there was still a chance, because she hadn’t screwed up so badly that the entire timeline was irreparable. She tried turning off her Geass, she knew, but hadn’t managed it. C.C. warned her about that before— that there was a chance she would erase the timeline she came from, if that was truly a power to go back to her own past.

 

“I want to see him,” she sniffled, raising her arms to wipe away with tears angrily with the heel of her palms. _He got shot because of me_ , she couldn’t say. Nunnally thought she could help, could do something that might stop her kidnapper when she heard the fight between him and Shirley. She felt so _victorious_ back then, because she could be useful somehow, even bound as she was, but didn’t expect him to break out of her memories as fast as he did.

 

She should have expected that he would try to shoot her, though, and she should have expected that her brother would get in the way.

 

For a moment, she thought herself to be shot. She thought she would bleed out, that there would be a hole in the middle of her chest, leaking her life out.

 

Until she made out the scent of blood, and suddenly, knew that it _wasn’t hers_.

 

Euphemia looked ready to protest for a moment, but then nodded. “I’ll take you.”

 

From there it was a blur as her sister left the room a moment to request a wheelchair, and have someone bring in something that looked more sturdy than the one Alice had her in— was it just two days ago? Depending on how long she was out for, but looking at the brightened curtains at the end of the room, the sun was still shining bright.

 

Nunnally touched the bandages around her head gingerly, but didn’t feel more than a dull throb of protest. Whatever injuries she might have sustained, it wasn’t serious.

 

As Euphie helped her into her wheelchair and finally took the both of them out of the room, she could see Sayoko stationed right outside the door, the maid sitting patiently and demurely on one of the standard plastic hospital chairs, next to a man who was very clearly an ill disguised Glaston Knight, looking uncomfortable in his seat and standing immediately to attention when he saw Euphemia and Nunnally leave the room.

 

“It’s okay, Claudio,” Euphemia tells him. “We’re heading for the operating room.”

 

That meant both him and Sayoko stood to follow them, and it was then that Nunnally realized something else.

 

“...Where is everybody?” She asked. The hallways of the hospital looked suspiciously empty, even if there were several people scattered by the nurse station, by the elevators, by the stairs… they all stood suspiciously straight.

 

Casual wear couldn’t cover up the military posture.

 

Euphemia didn’t respond for a moment, until she finally revealed, “...the Viceroy got concerned regarding the safety of this floor.”

 

Meaning: Cornelia had taken over, paranoid over her siblings.

 

Although in this case, Nunnally supposed that she had every reason to be as suspicious as she was. Nunnally had not expected the attack by Mao either, and it was Lelouch who paid dearly for it.

 

The took several turns, and all of the ‘civilians’ standing about nodded politely to them as they passed.

 

Another long corridor and she saw the first slouched figure— Suzaku, maskless, dressed in the normal boy’s uniform of Ashford Academy, his head low as the lady next to him — Cecile, Nunnally recognized, laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder, her figure curved around him protectively. Earl Asplund was with them, although standing rather than sitting, his arms folded across his chest and a frown on his face as he leaned against the wall with his shoulders slouched.

 

It was Cecile Croomy who saw them first, eyes widening and standing to attention immediately, “Princess Euphemia.”

 

Suzaku looked up and stood as well, although he seemed shakey on his feet, eyes tired and somewhat red-rimmed, “Princess— and. Nunnally.”

 

Her name sounded like guilt on his lips, and she stared hard at this version of Suzaku, looking younger and softer than she had ever seen, who must have been crying earlier. She couldn’t recall Zero showing anywhere near as much emotion as this teenage boy currently was, from the tension in his lower lip, to how his shoulders were drawn upward subtly towards his neck in shame.

 

She remembered an older Suzaku, insisting that Lelouch _must_ be guilty, even when his own hands shook from grief and sadness, and his face was drawn into a scowl. Expressive back then, but nowhere near as innocent as the posture now, withdrawn and awaiting judgement.

 

It seemed to take him a moment to notice something different, but when he met her eyes, Suzaku startled like a scared deer, like a child having seen a ghost.

 

Any other time, she would have marvelled at it. Right now, she just felt— tired.

 

“I want to see my brother,” she repeated, seeing as Euphemia stopped pushing her wheelchair here. She didn’t care for niceties right now. She just wanted to see Lelouch.

 

“He’s still in surgery,” it was an unusually somber Earl Asplund who responded, and he nodded in greeting, disregarding all protocol. “...Princess.”

 

Euphemia gave a partial curtsy back, her hands still on the handles of Nunnally’s wheelchair as she dipped just the slightest.

 

Asplund’s gaze never moved away from Nunnally, though, and she knew he had been addressing her, even if he hadn’t been told of who she was.

 

“Is the Viceroy still inside?” Euphemia asked instead.

 

“Yes, Your Highness,” Cecile answered, giving Lloyd Asplund a hard look for foregoing his manners. He only huffed at her dissatisfaction, and scowled at her childishly before deciding the conversation wasn’t interesting to him.

 

Euphemia seemed to think for a moment, and then nodded to herself, and said, “Please ask one of the assistants or doctors to meet us out here, then. I’d like to know how things are going, and how long this is still going to take.”

 

It wasn’t what Nunnally wanted— she wanted to _see her brother_ , and getting to learn about what was going on behind the doors of the operating room made her heart sink in her chest. She wanted to see him with her own eyes, without knowing that he was moments away from death, or that he was now her enemy.

 

Suzaku got up to do as Princess Euphemia asked, and arrived back just a few moments later with a disgruntled looking surgeon clad in blue scrubs.

 

“Princess Euphemia.” The man greeted, although his tone lacked much respect. He looked tired with a few days’ worth of stubble on his chin, but otherwise was clean with no blood on his clothes. “I’m Doctor Kelling. What can I do for you, before I get back to my patient?”

 

His irritation was a thin veneer over his words, but Nunnally didn’t care. She didn’t care for her half-sister’s responses either, instead sitting up straighter in her wheelchair to draw the doctor’s eye down to her, staring up at him expectantly.

 

“I want to know how my brother is doing.” Nunnally announced, feeling more like an empress than a little girl that moment, and needing that political training she managed to hone under Schneizel. Despite what most of the world may currently think, she was royalty as well, and one whom had climbed the bloody ladder of succession in one future thanks to her brother. “What happened, and if he’s going to be alright.”

 

The man looked a little taken aback by her authoritative tone and posture, although that didn’t last long. It was likely just from the shock factor, of seeing a little girl in a wheelchair taking control of the situation when she was surrounded by a royal princess and several high ranking members of the military and nobility.

 

Then his expression softened, and she realized it wasn’t so much that as it was likely he had a daughter around her age. She knew that look.

 

“He’s doing fine. Better than expected.” The man told her, although now his tone was quieter, likely to not scare her too much. “There’s been a few complications, but he’s holding on. If no more complications arise, he should be fine, and you should be able to see him soon.”

 

“No,” Nunnally was shaking her head even as Euphemia tried to thank the doctor for his time and words, “That doesn’t tell me anything. I need to know— he took that bullet for _me_.”

 

There was no way for her to properly express that anguish, or the emotional exhaustion that was the roller coaster ride the past several days. The relief at knowing he would be alright, even if it was told to her by a doctor who likely said it only because he didn’t want her to worry, was immense.

 

Dr. Kelling took a moment to glance at her, and then at Princess Euphemia, and then sighed, his posture slumping slightly as he raised a gloved hand to rub against the cap covering his hair.

 

“Your brother is very lucky, all things considered,” he said, and this time his tone wasn’t as forcibly jovial as before, although he did seem rather relieved as well. “The bullet hit a rib, and the majority of it lodged in his right lung. It managed to slow the bleeding enough for us to get him into surgery, even if some pieces ricocheted… out. The problem was getting it all out and fixing the damage. There were complications due to the location of the bullet, but he’s under the best care that modern technology can offer.”

 

“Complications?” Nunnally pressed, out a of masochistic sense of needing to know. Her heart was pounding, her palms sweating at the knowledge, but the vague details would haunt her, she knew. “Please. If you don’t tell me, I’ll just imagine the very worst.”

 

This seemed to exhaust the doctor more. “The bullet severed an artery and collapsed his lung coming out. I’d rather leave the details on paper, but we’ll have to watch carefully for a few more days if he makes it through.”

 

“If?” Euphemia asked, sounding scared.

 

“When.” The doctor corrected in a hurry, pasting on a smile. “My apologies, it’s been quite the day. No need to worry, Your Highness, the Viceroy has already made it quite clear what would happen if we didn’t do our utmost to save him.”

 

It figured that Cornelia would resort to threats from the very beginning. But Nunnally just nodded, feeling numb, and let the doctor get back into the operating room.

 

“Don’t worry,” Euphemia told her, even if her voice shook slightly under the false cheer, “Cornelia’s in there with them. She won’t let anything bad happen, I know it.”

 

Nunnally just nodded, tangling her fingers together as she stared down at her lap, feeling the seconds pass her by as her brain tried to catch up to what was happening. Mao had come unexpectedly. She had been taken, and her brother and Shirley had come. She didn’t know how long she had been gone for, but when she woke, it had been to Lelouch trying to free her and the sounds of Shirley’s fight. She thought she could help, and— got Lelouch shot. The next thing she knew, there were people trying to help.

 

There were still too many holes in that narrative.

 

She finally looked up, an unknown amount of time later, and saw everyone also settled within the uncomfortable plastic chairs, waiting for the doctors to finish.

 

“...Where’s Shirley?”

  


—

  


It turned out Shirley had been the one taken to questioning after being checked over by the doctors for her head injury. Her mother was called, arriving in the hospital still in her funeral wear with more tears in her eyes from the knowledge of almost having lost her daughter to some maniac on the day of her husband’s funeral.

 

Milly was the one who called the authorities that got Lelouch to the hospital in time, having arranged for those beholden to the Ashford name in the past few years to keep the incident off the official records. (Sayoko encountered C.C. on the way while searching for Nunnally, and had been warned by the girl to stay a certain distance away. She moved in immediately after hearing gunshots, and was the one who took out the jammer which allowed Shirley to call for help.)

 

Like Doctor Kelling said, Lelouch had been very lucky.

 

It turned out the head injury meant Shirley remembered little to nothing about the incident. Partial retroactive amnesia, the doctors explained away, a bit to do with the concussion she had and a bit to do with the psychological trauma.

 

They found Mao’s body, shot through the head (and Nunnally couldn’t help both the twinge of horror and the little vindictive nudge of satisfaction knowing he’s never be able to hurt her or her brother again), along with a suspiciously large pool of blood a bit further from him.

 

With Lelouch in critical condition, Nunnally having been not only blindfolded and bound throughout the confrontation, but also knocked out, Shirley was the only one with answers so far— and she had none, thanks to her spotty memories on the incident.

 

Milly hadn’t been waiting with the rest of them because she went down to support Shirley, who had been questioned by the Glaston Knights after… well, Nunnally wasn’t sure how exactly Cornelia found out about the incident so quickly.

 

Not quick enough, it seemed, but much faster than Nunnally expected in the first place.

 

That too was explained away, this time by Lloyd— Suzaku arrived on base soon after the funeral thanks to an anonymous text telling him to come in for top secret reasons, with orders for communications blackout, all authorized under a code Earl Asplund had given to Suzaku in case of emergencies.

 

By the time he turned on his phone again and got the frantic messages from Lelouch, it was already too late— with the jammer in effect, he hadn’t been able to call back or even locate them, even with Cecile and Lloyd’s help.

 

Lloyd contacted Princess Cornelia about a possible breach in security thanks to the authorization codes that he _hadn’t_ sent, explaining the bare minimum about Suzaku’s situation and mentioning his missing friend, and Cornelia had—

 

“Connected everything together,” Euphemia admitted to her quietly while she wheeled Nunnally away from everyone else for a bit to get some warm drinks. She refused an escort for them, saying that the entire floor of the hospital was already well under guard, and she wanted a moment to talk to Nunnally. “She’s been— reviewing things, lately. Things that we overlooked because we thought you were dead. We… looked into your school. She remembered the Kururugi name, and I saw Suzaku and Lelouch had the same classes together. She was really mad about Suzaku not saying anything, but then I guess she realized that just means he’s been keeping your secret this whole time.

 

“So when Earl Asplund said Suzaku was panicking about a friend he couldn’t find, Nellie got suspicious. It’s a good thing, too.”

 

Cornelia’s interference meant she flew in the top surgeons in the country after confirming it was indeed her siblings caught in the incident.

 

The only reason the kidnapping wasn’t all over the news was because of Milly’s interference, and Cornelia’s very unsubtle threats, along with some signed NDAs even though most of the people involved hadn’t been told anything at all.

 

“People are definitely going to notice,” Nunnally murmured, eying the vending machine they stopped at ruefully. “When she shuts down a whole floor in a hospital, flies in surgeons, and then the two of you and— all the Glaston Knights? Go missing for a day.”

 

“I’ll make up an excuse,” Euphemia told her. “They can blame me if they want, I don’t care. I’m just glad that we found out. I’m glad I’m _here_ instead of at— some silly meeting, not doing anything. Nunnally, I’m glad to see _you_. Wait until Cornelia comes out, she’ll be so happy to see you. She’ll probably call in all the optometrists and ophthalmologists to get you checked out.”

 

Euphie stopped, and Nunnally turned to look at her, the older girl looking so tired in that moment.

 

“She spent the whole time investigating, you know,” Euphemia told her. “When you said that you thought something bad might happen, and that you might be watched— she pulled out of all other operations and spent the time trying to find whoever might be after you guys.”

 

Nunnally only used that as an excuse, but it seemed to have paid off.

 

They chose several different drinks, piling the warm cans onto Nunnally’s lap before she finally realized that she was still wearing her pink school uniform, lightly dotted with dried, smeared blood.

 

She froze, although Euphemia didn’t notice, and pushed her back to the group at a steady pace.

 

It took the minute that the several long hallways brought for Nunnally to come back to her senses again, and she scolded herself for letting it get to her so easily. It shouldn’t be happening, especially not now that she had proof she had to step it up, had to keep it together because things were starting to go off the rails.

 

But first, she needed to make sure Lelouch would be okay. She would tell him, she really would. She just needed time, and a way to break it to him without… without what? It didn’t matter if she already knew that he wouldn’t hate her for it, she just couldn’t stand the idea that things change and that he would look at her differently.

 

The others were all still waiting when they got back, although this time with the addition of Milly, who looked both guarded and exhausted at the same time, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw that Nunnally was looking straight at her.

 

“Milly,” Nunnally’s voice cracked a little at the greeting, and she lifted her arms, prompting the older girl to kneel down before her and embrace her tightly. Nunnally buried her eyes against the stiff yellow collar of the high school girls uniform, and said wetly, “ _Thank you_.”

 

It was a thanks for helping her and her brother the entire time, to her family for harboring them, for all the times she included and helped them, and especially for getting the police involved and being one of the reasons that Lelouch wasn’t dead right now, bled to death on the cold dirty floor in the middle of nowhere.

 

“Nunnally,” Milly’s voice was uncharacteristically shaky, pressed against her hair, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

 

Nunnally just shook her head, hugging Milly back tightly for another few moments before letting go reluctantly. “...How’s Shirley?”

 

Milly was pale, her usually carefully styled blond hair looking a bit flat and dull as she admitted tiredly, “Scared. She wanted to be here, too, but her mother is… protective. But that’s understandable.”

 

The woman had almost lost her daughter on the day of her husband’s funeral. Nunnally could only nod in agreement.

 

A hand on the side of her face drew her attention, and Nunnally looked toward Milly’s fond smile.

 

“I always knew you had beautiful eyes.” The older girl told her, and Nunnally flushed at the unexpected compliment, feeling herself smile at the girl who always went out of her way to help the Lamperouge siblings feel better. “When did this happen?”

 

She didn’t know. It could have been after waking up at the hospital. It could have been after she was kidnaped— that made more sense, really, but she wouldn’t have known under the blindfold, too intent on taking in her surroundings in other manners and struggling to get out.

 

“Not soon enough,” Nunnally said somberly, which made Milly’s tentative smile falter.

 

They were interrupted by the door to the operating rooms opening, and all their attention was drawn to a figure covered in bright blue scrubs walking out slowly, figure slouched and looking exhausted. A hand went up to grab at the blue cap, pulling it off the allow the spill of magenta hair and more familiar features to be revealed.

 

Nunnally could hear Euphemia let out a shaky exhale behind her, but then Cornelia looked up at their group and gave a hesitant smile and nod.

 

“They said the worst is over,” she told them, or rather, Nunnally and Euphemia specifically, “they’ll move him to the ICU soon and you’ll be able to see him.”

 

She looked washed out in the hospital garb, unlike herself, the outer layer of clothing dwarfing her usually strong figure until it looked as if she might actually be much smaller than she was. Just as Milly had, she seemed to pause at the sight of Nunnally’s open eyes, shock overtaking her features.

 

It wasn’t as if hiding mattered anymore, seeing as Milly and Suzaku were there, and Euphemia and Cornelia were also there. Everyone would have made the connection.

 

“Hello, Cornelia,” Nunnally said, as calmly as she could, and attempted a smile. “Thank you. For staying in there with him.”

 

“Nunnally.” Cornelia’s features softened, and she stepped toward her younger sister. “You needn’t thank me for something I would have done regardless. I’m glad to see you alright.”

 

 _And seeing_ , were the unspoken words. It made sense that Cornelia was so concerned now, having just found out the existence of her younger siblings. The first time around, too much happened before she knew Lelouch and Nunnally were alive, and there were things far deeper than sibling bonds which had been broken by then.

 

This time, Nunnally wanted to foster that connection. She wanted to know just how deep Cornelia’s loyalty to Marianne vi Britannia ran, that she could mourn the woman’s passing for over a decade. It was manipulative of her, she knew, but she needed to do everything possible to ensure the survival of herself and her brother.

 

Cornelia had always been exceedingly protective of Euphemia. From stories, that protectiveness extended more than a little bit toward Lelouch and Nunnally when they were young children. And with Cornelia’s resources and connections, Nunnally might be able to expand her sphere of influence— but only if her half-sister allowed her the freedom that she and Lelouch enjoyed when the royal family thought them dead.

 

That included right now.

 

“I’m okay,” she confirmed, and then dug right into the heart of her issue. “You have to recall the Glaston Knights. Let people back on to this floor of the hospital.”

 

Cornelia, for her part, didn’t look that surprised, although she did sink into one of the vacant chairs, sighing. “This already, then. They’re here for your protection.”

 

“They’re going to draw attention we don’t need.” Nunnally protested.

 

“They’re here for _Lelouch’s_ protection, then. You shouldn’t worry about attention when the two of you were just attacked. Without knowing who else might know of your existence, I won’t risk it. No. My knights are staying, and there is to be no unauthorized persons within fifty meters of you two if I can help it… and I _can_.”

 

“Mao didn’t tell anyone about us. He—” How could she phrase it, outside of ‘I heard about this in the future, since I’ve been kidnapped by him before in another timeline’ or even ‘he’s not the type who can work with other people’? “—told me.”

 

Hearing it aloud, the answer did sound rather lame and naive.

 

The look Cornelia gave her confirmed it, but her older sister didn’t call her out on that. Instead, she gave a wave, seemingly ignoring everyone else in the room outside of her sisters, and said, “Regardless. I am not risking your safety when this incident has proven to me that there are people out there— sick and…” she stopped, seeming to bite down on the original word she chose before instead choosing something softer, “deviant individuals. How did he find out about you?”

 

Nunnally almost wanted to tell the truth in that moment, that Mao hadn’t been there because of her title, that he had been after the siblings because of their connection to C.C.— but how could she explain that?

 

It was so much easier to lie— lie and say that, yes, she or Lelouch must have been careless somehow, and some stranger found out about their heritage and thus kidnapped Nunnally with an intent to lure Lelouch in and ransom them both back to the empire.

 

“Cornelia,” Nunnally decided instead, “if he really did have— associates, then, who knew about us or who he told… don’t you think they’d be looking for something like this? An entire floor of a hospital booked off, by an Imperial Princess, and her knights surrounding it?”

 

“It should deter any more attempts.” Cornelia told her.

 

“Or they’d want revenge!” It was a story easily spun. “For their comrade’s death. Even if they can’t get in, they might— I don’t know, bomb the whole hospital. I don’t want that to happen. Withdraw the Glaston Knights. Let people back on this floor. We can use pseudonyms if that makes you feel better, or…” It was likely Cornelia was already peeved about the fact that she had to guard her siblings at what appeared to be a public hospital, but also likely that Lelouch hadn’t been in any way stable enough for transport to a private facility. “...or we’ll go with you once he can be moved. But not right now. _Please_.”

 

It was a weak excuse, but it would also gauge whether Cornelia was in any condition to listen to her siblings.

 

“We’ve been in hiding for all this time,” Nunnally insisted, for one last point, “I know how to handle this.”

 

For a moment, it seemed to have the opposite effect. The mere knowledge that something like this might have actually happened to them before twisted Cornelia’s features before she seemed to remember that there were still other people in the room with them.

 

“Fine,” she said, and then stood up once more, undoing the blue scrubs from her body to reveal her normal military uniform underneath, “then I will give you the same instructions I gave Euphemia.”

 

At this, the pink-haired princess behind Nunnally seemed to flinch back, “Cornelia, wait—”

 

“I’ll withdraw my knights,” Cornelia said, ignoring the protest, “and she can tell you what I require from you in return. Give and take, little sister. It isn’t just you and Lelouch against the world anymore, and if you want me to work with you, then I’ll need you to work with me. It was your decision to contact us. It will be my decision whether to assign my knights as your guard. This should never have happened in the first place. I will not have Lelouch’s death under my care, right after Clovis’s.”

 

She left the scrubs on the now vacant chair, and snapped out, “Claudio. With me,” before storming down the hall, presumably to gather her up knights, Claudio Darlton following along easily.

 

That left their little group in silence for a moment, before Euphemia said very quietly, “You shouldn’t antagonize her like that, Nunnally. You don’t know how worried she’s been.”

 

It was like a lynchpin being dislodged, as the words made her want to scream. Nunnally, not knowing how worried _Cornelia_ had been? How was it possible, at all, for Cornelia to have been anywhere near as worried as Nunnally had been, especially knowing that she miscalculated and her brother’s life may be hanging in the balance because of that— because of _her?_

 

Suddenly, her hands were trembling around the still warm drinks in her lap, and this time it was from rage more than anything else. How dare they think that they could possibly have been more worried than her? _Her_ , who had been the one kidnapped— the one who attempted to prepare for this situation and failed, the one who did all of this to try and save Lelouch’s life only to have her first mishap be so drastic that he ended up in critical condition within the first few days of her planning?

 

It was like he was safer without her interference, like nothing she did mattered, or was good enough if it did manage to matter.

 

“What does she want from me, then?” Nunnally bit out, turning a bit to look up at Euphemia, feeling like steel. Nunnally had gotten so used to being empress, so used to having her orders followed no matter if Cornelia and Schneizel liked them or not, that it stung now to be ordered around herself.

 

Euphemia just shook her head, “...I’ll tell you later.”

 

It wouldn’t do to argue with Euphie over this, when it wasn’t her fault, but Nunnally couldn’t help the streak inside her heart that told her it was a mistake to contact her sisters in the first place.

 

It would just bring more complications.

  


—

  


The silence until the doctors came out to announce that they would be allowing people in to see Lelouch was unbearable.

 

She couldn’t count on any of them to break it, though, and Nunnally herself wasn’t sure she wanted the awkward silence to be broken in the first place. Seeing the rest of them fidget after attempting to subtly glance at her gave her a twinge of vindictive satisfaction.

 

 _Good_ , she thought darkly. _Feel guilty._

 

But then as time went on, she started feeling a little bad because Milly didn’t deserve it. And then as she thought on that vein, Cecile didn’t deserve anything of this awkwardness, either. Or Earl Asplund. Sayoko definitely didn’t deserve her ire like that. Euphie only ever had the best intentions at heart, and Suzaku…

 

Well, one look at the boy and she could see that he was already feeling unreasonably guilty.

 

The group of them were moved by the doctors toward a different hallway, this time to a different area that seemed to be lacking more and more of Cornelia’s knights, although the hallway they ultimately ended up stopping in, with wide corridors, did have several men in civilian clothing and military poise guarding the doors.

 

“Only two visitors at a time,” a nurse there insisted, her expression severe and no nonsense. “I don’t care who you are.”

 

While the others settled into the new waiting area and Euphemia finally distributed the drinks she and Nunnally went to get, now cold, the two of them were soon ushered into a corner room down the ICU hall, and Nunnally took in the dim lights in the room and the large amount of machinery.

 

“What…” her voice felt like it was giving out as she stared with wide eyes.

 

“We’re being very careful.” The nurse who entered with them told her gently. “Post-surgery recovery can be a delicate process. Mr. Lamperouge is at a higher risk with his lowered body mass, and we are taking every precaution to ensure his recovery goes well.”

 

The nurse left them with a reassuring smile after checking up on several of the machines swamping the room, and Euphemia wondered aloud in a whisper, “...What does that mean?”

 

Nunnally couldn’t help but fond snort even as she wheeled herself the rest of the way to her brother’s bedside. Those were words she heard for herself before, during several surgeries after the Requiem that attempted to connect more of her nerves back together in her legs. “...It means he’s too skinny, and they’re worried.”

 

Their concerns felt legitimate, seeing her brother on the hospital bed, hooked up to machine after machine— a clear mask on his face to help him breathe, a tube underneath the freshly white hospital shirt that made a continuous whirring noise as it worked, taped IV and heart monitor…

 

He looked nothing like her memories, and it made Nunnally falter.

 

Euphemia walked up behind her, her entire body language screaming nerves and worry. She reached out to place her hands on Lelouch’s own, but then seemed to withdraw after a few seconds as if afraid. “I… this wasn’t how I hoped to see him again.”

 

“Yes.” Nunnally’s throat felt dry, and she couldn’t even bring herself to reach out to her brother. She could only stare, eyes wide with near disbelief.

 

This was what she did. This was _because of her_.

 

“I didn’t want to,” Euphie said softly, “I still don’t want to— but I can see what Cornelia means. I don’t… I don’t want to see something like this happen again.”

 

“She doesn’t get to decide,” Nunnally says stubbornly.

 

Euphemia made a noise of half-assent, but then shook her head and turned towards Nunnally as if tearing her gaze away from Lelouch, “She wants us to take knights.”

 

“She wants you to take a knight,” Nunnally corrected, because that was the obvious thing. “I can’t— we can’t. We’re supposed to be _dead_ , Euphie. If people even find out that we’re still alive, a knight of honor won’t be able to do anything for us.”

 

Euphemia shook her head. “Not just me. All of us.”

 

“Lelouch would never agree. Even if we were never exiled, the most he would have agreed to would be a Royal Guard. But not now.”

 

“I don’t think he’ll have much of a choice, not after this.” At Nunnally’s steely look, Euphemia tried to explain, “Clovis had an entire troop of Royal Guards, Nunnally. It didn’t help him in the end.”

 

Nunnally glanced over at her half-sister’s expression, wondering just how much she knew about Clovis’s death. It didn’t matter, though. More than knights and guards, Nunnally knew that there weren’t enough people her brother trusted. Even fewer he would trust as a _knight_ . In fact, at this time, only one name came to her mind, and maybe it was selfish of her because all she could think about was how he hadn’t _been there_ , but she didn’t want Suzaku anywhere near her brother.

 

Not with the way he never seemed to regret Zero Requiem in the future.

 

She fisted her hands, digging her hands into the skin of her palms. It was unfair of her to judge, she _knew_ that, especially since the Suzaku here and now seemed so— genuinely kind. Sad and unburdened by the weight of the world just yet.

 

It didn’t matter, she thought, not when Euphemia would choose Suzaku as her knight, anyway. That would solve half her problems, and create more in its wake.

 

She wanted Suzaku to _protect_ her brother, Nunnally knew. She arranged it in her head. But at the end of the day, she didn’t want him to be the only one there. If she wasn’t allowed to judge by a timeline that was long gone, then she would judge by this one: he was still her friend, was still her brother’s friend, but he hadn’t been there during the incident with Mao.

 

 _And_ , her mind whispered to her _, this is what happened_.

 

Maybe a part of her wanted to go up to him, shake him, and yell out _where were you?_ because a simple fake call from the military took him away during a time when Lelouch needed him the most. It wasn’t fair of her, she _knew_ it wasn’t fair of her, but fairness didn’t register to her that moment.

 

It felt like she couldn’t trust him with her brother’s life. She couldn’t trust anyone with her brother’s life. That’s why she was here in the first place, because everyone failed in the end, because Lelouch chose to die over all other options, when he should have been safe.

 

Her panic was pounding around her ears, and she just— _still_ couldn’t reach out to him.

 

“...I’ll think about it,” Nunnally relented, although she knew that she would only fight the decision harder later.

 

Euphemia looked at her like she knew, but stayed quiet, the two of them silently watching and listening to the pulse of the heart monitor.

  


—

  


She didn’t leave the room until hours later, when the sun had already fallen, and that was at Euphemia’s insistence they allow the others to visit him, and to get Nunnally some food and get her eyes checked up— not to mention fresh clothes.

 

She faltered outside the room, eyes wide to see a face she hadn’t expected.

 

“Lord Ashford,” she greeted with a dip of her head, and Ruben Ashford rose from his seat to bow to her in return, with Milly right at his side curtsying best she could in her short uniform skirt. She eyed them warily, knowing that they were here to protect her but must also know that her association with the Princesses had been discovered. They wouldn’t have greeted her like that otherwise. Nunnally could only hope that Cornelia hadn’t pulled something truly awful in the few hours she had last seen her.

 

“Your Highness,” He greeted solemnly, and she could feel a lump in her throat as he looked over at Euphemia only after that greeting.

 

“It’s good to see you, Lord Ashford,” Euphemia told him softly, once again pretending that the greeting had been meant for her, and addressing the man by the title he should have, if the emperor hadn’t humiliated the supporters of the vi Britannia line by stripping them of their ranks once Marianne died. It made Nunnally more appreciative of her sister, the one who always knew what seemed to plague others. “It’s been a very long time.”

 

“Seven years,” Ruben agreed amiably. “You’ve grown into a lovely young woman, Princess Euphemia.”

 

She only smiled in return. “I… We. Cornelia and I have much to thank you for.”

 

He shook his head. “Nothing of that sort.” then he turned to his granddaughter, who had been standing silently, eyes far too perceptive during the exchange, and said, “Why don’t you go and visit Lelouch, Milly? I’m sure it will greatly ease your mind, and he should not be left alone.”

 

She murmured her acquiescence, and luckily seemed to glance towards Suzaku, who got up with a hopeful expression and followed her as she nodded. He looked back for a moment, but Lloyd was asleep in the uncomfortable hospital chair, and Cecile gave him an encouraging smile.

 

“Go on,” she told him, “go see your friend.”

 

Nunnally watched the exchange stoically, intentionally schooling her expression as she watched them go, uncertain how she should feel. It’s been a roller coaster of a day, she excused to herself. She was just— more cautious right now. With Lelouch still in critical condition, she was understandably vigilant.

 

That was all.

 

“If I may,” Ruben gestured with an arm and tilt of his head toward Nunnally, “Princess Cornelia has arranged for several doctors of repute, and I’d much like to confirm with my own eyes—”

 

He left off deliberately, enough that Euphemia started behind Nunnally, and the said, “Oh, yes, of course! I’m sure you must be very worried, too, and I’ve been hogging her attention all day…”

 

It was a good sign of one experienced in court, Nunnally knew, to confer their intentions and wants without actually having to state anything directly. The best way to talk was through body language, and through social cues, and a million other ways that would ensure no one could directly quote them.

 

Euphemia curtsied and excused herself to find her sister, and Sayoko stood smoothly from where she had been sitting, waiting, the entire time, taking over the wheelchair handles as Ruben gestured for the two of them to follow him as he set off at a leisurely pace down the hospital corridors, unhurried and very much unbothered by the remaining guards, if his expression and posture were any judge.

 

It took them all the way to the elevator, where Sayoko pressed a floor she already knew and the doors closed behind them, before Ruben said, “Do you know what you’re doing, Nunnally?”

 

Nunnally couldn’t help her wince. It was a reasonable question, but she felt too frayed at the edges to answer in the affirmative like she wanted to.

 

He didn’t look toward her, but seemed to know her answer regardless.

 

“From here on, you will be part of a dangerous game,” he told her, never taking his eyes off the numbers at they counted down in the elevator. He frowned. “Princess Cornelia held her position as a likely heir not only because of her place in succession, or because of her battle prowess. She knows how to get what she wants, and how to make others to get it for her.”

 

As the elevator neared their destined floor, he finally looked down at her, blue eyes perturbed. “I regret not having these lessons with you, but perhaps Lelouch will teach you when he’s better… but Cornelia was captain of your mother’s guard, Nunnally. No matter what she claims, or how she feels, she is a large part of why you are here right now. You mustn’t forget that.”

 

Nunnally thought back to Cornelia’s anguish, and Jeremiah’s fury, and wondered if this was why the Ashford family never attempted to contact her after, mind wipe or not.

 

Trust within the imperial court, it seemed, was hard earned and easily broken.

 

“The Ashford family’s protection can only extend so far. We have lost too much power to contend with members of the royal family again. Should she reveal your existence to the Emperor, there is nothing I can do to keep him from taking you and your brother from this home.”

 

“...I know.” It was a risk she would have to take. If that did happen, then at least this time Nunnally would be better informed, better prepared for it. She knew that her experience at court was limited at best despite the years she spent embroiled in it (thanks to the protection of Cornelia, and Schneizel, Zero, and… even to her brother), but now she could see the world and the things that court tried to hide from her, and if all went according to plan, then she would soon regain use of her legs as well. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

 

Let them try anything, she thought. So long as Lelouch was alright, even if the two of them _were_ taken back to court, she could distract them with her sight and her steps, while her brother tore the useless traditions out from around them.

 

...No. That was mere fantasy speaking. Even the two of them together wouldn’t be able to impose upon the emperor, she knew. Not him, and not the Knights of Rounds.

 

Ruben gave her a searching look, but then his expression softened into a small smile, almost unusual amongst the frown lines on his face from a lifetime at court.

 

The doors dinged, and opened, and Sayoko pushed her out alongside Ruben’s pace. It was startling to see the rest of the hospital, crowded and loud, filled with people moving about at a steady pace and others waiting amongst the cacophony of machines and people talking.

 

“What’s done is done,” Ruben dismissed. “We move on. The designs Milly showed me were a thing of beauty. I’ve had the liberty of creating the prototype. This old man is still quite interested in scientific developments like that. Should it work, coupled with your eyes—” Here, he turned a glance at her, expression soft, “...I knew I remembered you with your mother’s eyes.”

 

Nunnally brought her fingers underneath her eye, touching the skin lightly in contemplation.

 

“Perhaps we can give Lelouch quite the surprise. A few months early for his birthday, but…”

 

“No, that’s exactly what I want.” Nunnally interjected quickly. They stopped for a moment as a group of concerned people walked by, murmuring lowly. The bustle was shocking compared to the quiet of before. “I wanted— maybe if I could have… run away, maybe none of this would have happened.”

 

“Lelouch is a strong boy.” Ruben interjected, having seen through her words to the truth of the matter. “A stubborn boy. He’ll be just fine, you needn’t worry about that.”

 

His confidence was reassuring, especially in contrast to the copious amount of worry she and the others had been plagued with. Another thing that attested to years of experience at court, Nunnally sumized.

 

A tall man with an earpiece waited for them outside of an unmarked room, and Nunnally had to mentally sigh again. It was telling that she could pick out Cornelia’s knights so easily, and a little unsettling knowing that they either were that inept at espionage or she told them not to bother beyond the clothing.

 

“A few eye tests,” Ruben told her as they crossed into the room, with the man outside nodding low in respect. “To ensure your good health.”

  


—

  


It was actually late evening by the time the doctors let her go.

 

Nunnally was tired, cranky, sore, and barely given more than five minutes to run a warm wet towel over her exposed skin and change into a more casual, comfortable dress, before the legion of doctors Cornelia found declared her in good health, if a little dehydrated and bruised.

 

She wasn’t ready to argue and fight with hospital staff over being sent home, wanting nothing more than to curl up with a blanket by her brother’s bedside, willing to suffer through a sore back as well before she would allow anyone to send her away.

 

Sayoko was gone by the time Nunnally was finished, but the knight left at her door (and she didn’t even recognize the man) accompanied her without comment as she made her way back to the elevators, once more going through a crowd of people waiting through different sections of the hospital, some giving her curious looks, but the majority of them not looking at her at all.

 

As she made her way to the elevators and up to the floor she remembered, the guard Cornelia assigned stopped outside and stood at attention, although he at least made it look like he was impatiently waiting for someone. By now, it seemed like there were more people on this floor, as per her wishes, more harried nurses and several other civilians looking rather haggard and exhausted.

 

She found Euphie and Suzaku sitting in the waiting area, talking quietly to each other, this time with Euphie disguised as a civilian, a cap on her hair to hide every inch of her very distinctive pink hair, and casual clothing on that seemed very different than what she would normally wear, including cargo pants and a hoodie that looked like it might have belonged to someone else before she appropriated them. It was extremely effective in hiding her, making her look almost like a boy, and she wondered if Euphie got that idea from Alice.

 

For a moment, approaching them, Nunnally had been hit with a wave of dread, that perhaps Euphie already asked Suzaku to be her knight, and that the timeline as it was now might be going down the same way it did last time.

 

But then she noticed that Euphie seemed more hunched into herself than normal, the cap pulled low over her face and Suzaku sitting in such a manner that he was blocking most of her from view. That’s when she noticed the others also in the waiting area.

 

It seemed that the removal of the Glaston Knights meant that the rest of the student council finally got wind of what happened. The rest of them were still in school uniforms, with various extents of shock showing on the faces.

 

Nina was sitting in a corner, hunched over until she was nearly bent in half over her head, looking extremely scared, while Kallen sat with her awkwardly, looking like she wanted to comfort the other girl in her clear display of distress, but not knowing how to. It was a rather telling difference from when Kallen used to sit as far away from Nina as she dared, not knowing what to do with the other girl at all in those times she did make it to student council meetings.

 

Rivalz, on the other hand, was standing and pacing the short steps back and forth the small waiting area, his body language screaming distress and uncertainty. Cecile and Lloyd seemed to be gone now.

 

Milly and Shirley were missing as well.

 

“...could this have happened…” Nunnally could hear Rivalz murmuring to himself, very likely not meant to be heard by anyone else. It was another thing she would pretend she didn’t hear, “...worse than Shinjuku…”

 

 _Shinjuku_. It was a bleak reminder that Lelouch had been in danger then as well, and she hadn’t been able to do anything there either.

 

She wheeled herself over to them this time, feeling awkward without anyone else there to take the attention away should she require it, and didn’t that just say something about herself that she could be an adult now and still so reliant on others, even for such simple things?

 

Kallen was the first to look her direction, and she stiffened in surprise. Suzaku looked up next, although he didn’t look as surprised this time, there was still something indescribable in his expression that conveyed a mixture of hope, relief, and guilt.

 

Seeing it now, he looked so very different from his future self that it made Nunnally hesitate with her own guilt for being so suspicious of him. Suzaku was so much more— _innocent_ at this time, it seemed almost impossible.

 

Kallen’s sharp movements seemed to have drawn Nina’s attention, as she was the next to look up, sitting up in surprise as she gasped with a hand to her mouth, “Nunnally!”

 

That seemed to draw the attention of the others, and she attempted a weak smile, glad now that she changed into different clothes and managed to clean up a little bit.

 

“Hello.”

 

It was like a broken spell, when Nina stood up this time, her fear diminished as she hurried to Nunnally’s side before she hesitated just a step away from the wheelchair, dropping lightly into a crouch to get to eye level and attempting a watery smile. “I… oh. You’ve never actually seen us before! We…”

 

“We were so worried about you!” Rivalz exclaimed, butting straight into the conversation as he made his way to Nunnally’s side, no hesitation in his movements as he leaned toward the wheelchair into her space, unlike Nina who cringed back a little just at the sight of it. He flailed his arms about for a bit, looking a little bit like he wanted to hug her but wasn’t sure if that was allowed, or whether it was proper, or if Lelouch might wake up within the next moment and kill him for manhandling his little sister. “Miss President didn’t call us until an hour ago! How could none of us have noticed something was wrong? I’m so sorry, Nunnally!”

 

Nina made an aborted gesture towards Nunnally’s eyes, but Rivalz went on instead to lament over how they should never have left Lelouch and Shirley alone, and what kind of madman would ever want to target sweet little Nunnally? He’d give them hell-for!

 

It seemed the rest of the student council only got bits and pieces of the story— that the Lamperouge siblings had run across a madman who kidnapped Nunnally, they were in the hospital, and Lelouch and Shirley went to find her, and Lelouch had been _shot_.

 

Euphemia was very quiet where she sat, cap pulled low over her hair as she leaned in to whisper something to Suzaku.

 

Nunnally watched all of them carefully, smiling only when the attention was turned back to her.

 

“Thank you for being here,” she said, feeling more awkward than she wanted to. This amount of people, and all of them meant to be her friends? She didn’t remember the last time she was expected to speak informally like that in a group of people around her age range. It was so much easier when she couldn’t see them, for some reason, but now that she could…

 

Maybe it was because by the time she opened her eyes the first time around, Nunnally had already lost all her friends.

 

“Of course we’re here!” Rivalz exclaimed, only again taking over for the group as he leaned closer to her, eyes large and sincere. “We’re not going to leave you here alone!”

 

Nina hesitated, but nodded firmly in agreement. Kallen gave a small nod from where she was still in her seat, eyelids drooping and tired, but a glint that said she was still very attentive and curious. Suzaku said something quietly to Euphie, and then also gave his assent.

 

“Nunnally,” Nina spoke up again, voice trembling for a moment before she frowned and nodded to herself, gathering her courage, “I’m— sorry. Sorry about Lelouch. And glad you can see us. You can see us, right?”

 

Nunnally let her eyes drift over to the timid girl, watching as Nina’s fear fell away slowly to her curiosity, looking more confident with something she could access and analyze.

 

“That’s—” She looked over at Rivalz, to see the teenage boy starry-eyed with wonder, as if just noticing that right now. “That’s amazing, Nunnally! Now Lelouch has _got_ to be fine, because he’d never miss this for the world!”

 

Despite everything, that confidence made her smile a little more authentic. Rivalz turned back to Kallen, demanding the girl be more supportive as well, even as Kallen sputtered and fidgetted under her persona of a sickly girl.

 

“Can I go in to see him?” She asked, ignoring all of that. She was too tired to put up much of a front right now, and just wanted to get away from the rest of them, as much as she liked and missed all of them and even appreciated their support.

 

“Ah.” At that, Rivalz seemed to deflate a bit, calming down. “Sure thing. Shirley and Miss Prez are in there right now, but I’m sure they’ll give you some time. I mean— if you want us to stay, we’ll stay!” He pounded a fist against his chest in promise, wincing a bit but went on, “No way any madmen’s going to get past me.”

 

“Visiting hours are over soon.” Nina tried to interject hesitantly.

 

“Then I’ll make them let me stay! Miss Prez will help me bully them into it, I know she can do it. She’d want to stay too, I know it.”

 

Nunnally couldn’t help relaxing a bit. They were really good friends.

 

So Cornelia really had taken the restrictions away. That was good. It was better to worry them a little more than to draw the attention that extra guards would have brought. Leave the Glaston Knights to patrol a hospital floor overnight, and that would definitely draw attention no matter how casual they tried to dress.

 

Attention meant rumors, rumors might means news, and news got back to the mainland too quickly for her liking. Schneizel taught her all about the speed in which rumors like that started, after all. At the moment, knowing the current Emperor, that scared her far more than the idea of some other madman (and it was really unlikely) sneaking in the hospital to try to finish the job Mao botched.

 

Assassins sent later on, because the Emperor was displeased with them, felt far more likely.

 

“It’s okay,” she tried to reassure Rivalz, who was still coming up with ways to bully the hospital staff into at least letting him stay out there in the waiting area, where he would be awake and waiting in case anything happened. “I don’t think anyone would try anything in the middle of a hospital… and the man behind this is dead.”

 

That stopped the boy short, looking taken aback.

 

She wasn’t sure if it was her place to tell, especially if they didn’t already know. That would be Shirley’s choice— she must already be struggling with it, at least a little bit, the fact that she had just taken a life, a real danger to her and Lelouch and Nunnally or not.

 

Children raised under the Britannian motto would not be too heartbroken over taking a life in self-defense, or even in defense of others. As kind as Shirley always was, it spoke volumes about the pervasiveness of Britannia’s teachings that she hadn’t hesitated with the kill-shot.

 

To be fair, had Nunnally been given the chance, she would not have hesitated either.

 

Nunnally sighed, inadvertently catching the attention of the others.

 

“Sorry,” she told them as Suzaku moved to stand from his seat, to find a passing doctor in case there was something she might still need, some injury overlooked— she knew that look. It was the same that Cornelia or Sayoko would often give her after illnesses. “I’m just tired. It’s been a really long day.”

 

“I’ll get Shirley and Milly,” Suzaku reassured her, and left toward the room.

 

Rivalz gave Nunnally a friendly nudge, and when the others seemed to have settled back in their seats again, once again quiet under the weight of their own thoughts and musings regarding what happened. Kallen looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Nunnally looked over at her a second more, trying to pick up more than the thick guilt around her, knowing that she was already worn thin emotionally from the funeral of Shirley’s father and the knowledge that she placed a decisive factor in it.

 

Did she think this was something to do with the Black Knights as well? She wouldn’t be wrong, but it wasn’t a correct assumption, either.

 

She looked back at Rivalz when he seemed ready to say something, but seeing her gaze upon him, he seemed to falter, expression of enforced cheer falling into one of more genuine concern. He seemed to think better of his words, and just offered a sympathetic smile instead, some of the manic energy from before dissipating.

 

“It— I— uh.” He seemed to be at a loss for words, and raised a hand to his hair, fingers disappearing into blue tufts as he tried to figure out exactly what he wanted to stay to her, and how to say it. “...I guess you don’t really want to hear any apologies or be asked about what happened right now.”

 

She appreciated it, she really did. “I don’t. I don’t think Shirley wants those questions, either.”

 

He winced, and then let out a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, I guess not. We just got the bare bones of it, I know, but. Yeah. I guess you don’t want to hear about how worried we were, either. That’d be really selfish of me, to focus all of this on what I’m feeling…”

 

He murmured the last part, expression remorseful as he looked away from her deliberately.

 

Nunnally just patted the hand he still had by her wheelchair handle, and was luckily interrupted by Suzaku, who had come back with both Milly and Shirley, the two of them looking tired but hopeful. Shirley was dressed in black, although her clothes looked rumbled and comfortable— loose sweater and pants, her hair tied into a tail low at her neck and her skin pale against the dark of her clothes. She eyes were red-rimmed and exhausted, face rubbed red in areas stark against her paleness, making it look like starbursts of blood red freckles around her eyes, or a mild rash.

 

Milly, on the other hand, looked just as composed as she did earlier, with one arm around Shirley’s shoulders to provide the other girl with comfort, the two of them slightly hunched with the long day.

 

“You can go in now, Nunnally,” Milly told her kindly, the only one who seemed unaffected by the sudden sight. Shirley froze the moment her gaze landed on Nunnally, face scrunching as if she wanted to cry but had no more tears left after the day. “Grandfather talked to the nurses here— you’ll be allowed to stay past visiting hours, and Miss Sayoko will bring overnight things for you.”

 

“Thank you,” Nunnally told her, too tired to summon the guise of anything more. She broke away from Rivalz, ready to roll her wheelchair to the room, but then stopped at Shirley’s wide green gaze.

 

She might have been ready to dismiss everyone else and retire to her own thoughts, but Shirley deserved better than the treatment she must have endured all the day.

 

Shirley was the reason they weren’t dead right now, and—

 

Nunnally maneuvered her wheelchair closer to the two girls, around Suzaku, and reached her arms up in a very familiar motion that had Shirley’s lower lip wobbling before the older girl knelt down on the cold hospital floor to embrace her.

 

They stayed that way for a long moment, ignoring everything else, Nunnally’s arms tight around Shirley’s shoulders as she felt the older girl tremble slightly against her. This must have been the first time something terrible happened to her. Nunnally could barely remember what her reaction must have been the first time. Back then, her brother held her hand every step of the way, and… now, she owed Shirley at least this much.

 

“Thank you,” Nunnally murmured against Shirley’s shoulder, feeling the other girl tighten her grip for a moment. Her voice was low enough to not be heard by the others. “ _Thank you_. I don’t know what would have happened without you.”

 

Shirley made an indescribable noise low in her throat. “I… don’t thank me. I messed up. Lulu must have had a plan, and I messed it all up. And I don’t even remember where I messed up!”

 

Nunnally doubted it. Her brother was smart, a genius really, especially when it came to plans and back-up plans, but C.C. had once told her with a scoff that Lelouch’s cool demeanor shattered the moment someone he loved was put in danger. As brilliant as her brother was, Nunnally knew he must have floundered against Mao, especially with herself in so much danger.

 

She didn’t know exactly what happened, and was unlikely to ever get the information unless her brother woke up and decided to confide in her a deeply traumatic event that she could avoid (unlikely, considering his past habits of wrapping her in wool), but Nunnally knew from the little bits she could recall of the kidnapping— of Mao’s insane laughter and his gloating… he would never have let the siblings go.

 

If Shirley hadn’t been there, Nunnally wondered if she and her brother would even be alive at this point.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” she told Shirley, unable to completely dash the girl’s remorse. She lifted her head finally, and gave Shirley a smile, watching as she marveled at Nunnally’s open eyes. “You were there, and I think because of it… I’m still here. And my brother’s still alive.”

 

A long strand of orange-red hair was stuck against Shirley’s wet cheek, but the girl didn’t give it any mind, instead bringing a damp handkerchief to her eyes and sniffling.

 

“He— the doctors say he’s going to be okay.” Shirley told her, tentative as if revealing a secret. “Oh… I shouldn’t keep you. I’m sure Lulu will feel better much faster knowing that you’re okay.”

 

Shirley pulled back, but not before Nunnally managed one last squeeze of her arm, trying to convey as much reassurance as she could muster. As Shirley stood up again and Nunnally turned her wheelchair slightly to make her way around the others, she saw Suzaku lean in to speak with Euphie for a moment, her eye drawn by the movement even as she tensed.

 

It took only a moment, but then Euphie was accompanying her, and Milly moved aside with a nearly invisible dip of her head in acknowledgement, before she and Suzaku immediately moved to draw the attention of the rest of the student council away from Nunnally… and Euphie accompanying her, despite the curious look that Shirley seemed to direct at her.

 

Euphemia took over the back handles of Nunnally’s wheelchair smoothly, her face tilted downward to hide her features in the shadow of her cap. It was suspicious, Nunnally thought, but apparently the others were willing to let that go despite the kidnapping just earlier that day.

 

She wondered how Suzaku must have introduced Euphie to the others, seeing as Nina didn’t seem to give the Imperial Princess a second look as they passed down the hall.

 

Nunnally kept her eyes down the brightly lit hallway for a moment as the noise of people disappeared behind her. They passed one room, then another, before Euphemia moved to open the door to Lelouch’s room, letting Nunnally wheel herself in the rest of the way before shutting the door closed behind them.

 

The darkness was an unexpected relief, the bright lights of the hallway fading into a dim and manageable lighting that had Nunnally slumping down in her wheelchair, feeling like the air had been knocked out of her.

 

“Cornelia’s going to leave two knights next door,” Euphie said, finally lifting her face to reveal tiny strands of pink hair that managed to escape just slightly from underneath the cap, and her bright blue eyes. “She— she wants to get your account of what happened. When you’re ready.”

 

Nunnally didn’t care about that. Didn’t care about knights or having to relive the situation, not at the moment while she wheeled herself to her brother’s bedside, taking solace in the steadiness of the heart monitor when nothing else could reassure her.

 

She reached out to take his hand, barely warmer than room temperature, and remembered all the moments when he had done this for her instead. From her own time in treatment, to every moment she expressed fear and required his presence in the dark world, and even times she was felt selfish enough to make her brother sit next to her when she couldn’t fall asleep, holding her hand in case she drifted off into nightmares and not even know it.

 

This time, she thought, she would take care of the nightmares.

 

“That’s fine,” she told Euphemia distractedly. “Whatever she wants.”

 

It felt like her half-sister was going to say more, but seemed to realize that Nunnally was now entirely distracted, entirely exhausted, and unwilling to process more thoughts than she had to.

 

Instead, Euphemia pulled up a chair next to Nunnally and wrapped her arms around her sister, the two of them sharing in a companionable quiet as they watched their brother struggle to recover.

 


	14. Seven for a Secret

Morning brought a summer storm that rained bullets against the windows as the force of nature raged outside, demanding to be let in and lauded. Nunnally woke to the sounds of water droplets like pellets against the glass, staccato and brusque against her ears, grating on her senses.

 

It must have been very early still, light barely peeking in through the drawn curtains through the grey cast of clouds in the sky. She had fallen asleep on the uncomfortably firm sofa directly under the window, and someone pulled a thin fleece blanket over her person and tucked a cushion under her head. Her legs felt numb and uncomfortable, forced into a curled position the entire night, and she sat up slowly before reaching down to massage blood flow back above her knees.

 

Sitting at the foot of Lelouch’s bed, still as a statue, C.C. watched her with near glowing amber eyes.

 

“Congratulations on your sight,” she said calmly as Nunnally froze, “You maid left you quite the interesting contraption while you were asleep.”

 

The green-haired woman looked toward one side of the room, and Nunnally followed her gaze to see an open box of items: fresh clothing, bag of toiletries, and— it looked like something else was underneath all of that, large and bulky to require the box in the first place.

 

“Where is Miss Sayoko?” Nunnally asked, still blinking the sleep from her eyes. She pushed herself into a better position upright, moving her unresponsive legs until they dangled over the side of the couch.

 

“Left to get you breakfast, last I saw.” C.C. answered.

 

Nunnally didn’t ask how C.C. got into the hospital room to begin with, especially as Cornelia was supposed to still have guards on her siblings. The woman should have been extra obvious as someone who didn’t belong, considering that she was clad in a white one piece that looked a good deal like a straightjacket, with bindings that trailed over the cuffs of her sleeves.

 

“If my brother’s needed by the Black Knights…”

 

“I wouldn’t know.” The witch dismissed, leaning back against her hands as she watched Nunnally. “I only came to make sure he survives. I don’t care either way if his little rebellion succeeds or fails. It won’t make a difference to me.”

 

If the Black Knights succeed in liberating Japan, then the entire world would take notice. A dozen other Areas would rise up and rebel against Britannia, likely bringing about one of the bloodiest wars in recent history. Even if C.C. didn’t care about that, Nunnally did. She cared to see her brother succeed, but also ensure that the senseless war doesn’t come.

 

It would be a fine line to walk.

 

“He’s going to be okay,” Nunnally parroted Shirley’s words at C.C., and frowned. “...You woke me up.”

 

“I did.” C.C. acquiesced. “I wanted to check something.”

 

The woman tilted her head, a long strand of green hair falling over her shoulders to pool down on her lap. Nunnally resisted the urge to rub at her eyes and attempt to wake up a little bit more, feeling as if the other woman had deliberately timed their meeting to ensure she was as off guard as possible.

 

“You’ll have to get contacts,” C.C. told her. “Or maybe fake a light sensitivity and wear tinted glasses.”

 

Nunnally’s brows drew together. “Why?”

 

As if anticipating her question, C.C. brought up a hand mirror. “You haven’t been paying attention, then.”

 

In the mirror, Nunnally startled at her own reflection. Her hair was flat on a side from sleep, unkempt and messy, and her face rounder than she remembered. Younger. There were red smudges on her face from being pressed against a hard cushion, and she resisted the urge to rub at them and thus make it worse.

 

What caught her attention was the strangely red glow coming from one eye, not the indigo blue she was familiar with, but an eerie shade of magenta, cut through with a red symbol like a bird in flight.

 

 _Geass_.

 

She had only seen the symbol once that she could remember, in the memory of her brother’s eyes on the Damocles, the same color and glow. How had she not noticed it before? How had anyone _else_ not noticed it before, especially the doctors who checked her vision yesterday?

 

“Don’t worry,” C.C. said airily in the face of Nunnally’s growing panic. “The only ones who can see are it are those who already know the existence of Geass. None of the ones you spoke with yesterday are a danger to you. Of course, the moment someone starts questioning it… it might be too late.”

 

That would have been good to know _yesterday_ , when Nunnally could have faked a light sensitivity with the doctors. Now that they gave her a clean bill of health, it would be rather suspicious to bring it up.

 

“Contacts, then,” C.C. said after seeing her expression. “At least you won’t have to worry about you Geass leaking through.”

 

She cringed at the reminder, of the future’s C.C.’s story about Euphemia, and said, “I’ll have to tell Sayoko…”

 

“Very trusting, aren’t you? I could have found the contacts for you.”

 

Nunnally grimaced. “Were you going to teach me how to put them on, and how to hide them unless I can come up with some nearsighted excuse that has me wearing contacts from the very beginning instead of glasses?”

 

She trusted Sayoko. The woman practically raised the two of them, and was one of Nunnally’s greatest emotional supports in a time after the death of her brother. She already knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the maid would never reveal the siblings’ secrets.

 

Even now, with Nunnally’s recent forays into contacting her sisters, Sayoko had not exposed Nunnally’s admittedly disastrous ideas. Lord Ashford, who would have been the first to be told, hadn’t known until Cornelia made the knowledge impossible to contain.

 

She rubbed at her face. Just another thing to keep secret. How had her brother dealt with keeping everything separate like that? She didn’t even notice when C.C. got up, not until the woman was right next to her, gazing down at her curiously.

 

“...You really are from the future,” C.C. concluded after a long, probing stare. “Aren’t you?”

 

She didn’t want to admit it, wish she hadn’t told C.C. that the first first thing. Now, the words of the future C.C. rung through her head, about not trusting her past self. She stayed silent.

 

If anything, C.C. seemed rather disappointed by that information. “Was it really six years?”

 

How was she supposed to answer? Nunnally just shrugged a shoulder, attempting nonchalance. The witch looked displeased with that answer, enough to let it show on her face.

 

“Stubborn,” the woman told her, and then moved back slightly to give her back some personal space. “A lot like your brother, then.”

 

No matter how easily that could be taken as an insult, and likely meant as one, Nunnally couldn’t help but be pleased. “Am I doing that well, then?”

 

That seemed to choke a surprised laugh out of C.C. “That wasn’t a compliment, little girl.”

 

Nunnally shrugged again, just to be extra infuriating.

 

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” C.C. seated herself in the sofa as well, frowning at the lack of bounce as she pushed her weight down, and Nunnally smiled ruefully. She understood— the cushions looked like they would be soft, but were anything but. “With the apparent bond between you two.”

 

Nunnally glanced over at her brother, still sleeping off the sedation, and relaxed. “...Yes.”

 

With a bit of sleep and the horrors of the day behind her, it was easier to hold onto the goal of moving forward now, knowing that her brother would be fine: Nunnally would have to clear up all the lies between them. She would be selfish this time around.

 

C.C. helped her get the box that Sayoko left after a few moments, and Nunnally set it down on her lap before rummaging through, surprised by the weight. She pulled out a package of neatly folded clothes, smelling sweetly of the lavender detergent they used, and then through a soft pink bag, quilted and cute, running her fingers over the familiar textures. She didn’t recognize the bag visually, but feeling it… yes. Nunnally used it all the time in the past, preferring the texture and durability and numerous pockets— and the fact that Lelouch got it for her while they had been out and her fingers lingered over the quilting for a little too long.

 

She smiled softly down at the bag, now taking in the details of rabbits printed on the soft pink material, and the various childish greetings like comic exclamations plastered on one side.

 

At this point, C.C. sighed at her. “If you’re going to get sentimental, I’m going to leave. The two of you seem to be fine here. Don’t get caught up in anything dangerous again.”

 

She managed to slip to the door and out by the time Nunnally managed to tear herself from her thoughts and nostalgia, pink bag still in her lap as she looked up only to see the tail end of C.C.’s bright green hair disappear around the door before it closed softly behind her.

 

Mere seconds later, there was a soft knock and Sayoko entered, looking a little surprised to see Nunnally not only awake, but with the box on her lap. She was carrying a tray of food, still warm enough to be steaming, and moved to set it down on the side table next to the couch.

 

“Mistress Nunnally.” Sayoko greeted her with a small smile, voice low and soft as if not wanting to wake Lelouch… as if he would wake just from someone being a little too loud. “Good morning.”

 

“Good morning,” Nunnally echoed, and leaned her weight on the back of the couch. She looked over at the tray curiously, and dismissed what looked like a bowl of steaming porridge. Healthy. Not entirely appealing to her at the moment, but she was sure that Sayoko would insist she eat it.

 

Sayoko moved to help her with the box, setting it next to her and helping her sort through her items, before turning her attention to Nunnally with a gentle smile. “A gift, from Lord Ashford.”

 

That made Nunnally peer down into the box, and whatever in there was wrapped in layers of bubble wrap. She pulled an item out hesitantly, surprised by the heft and weight of it, before slowly unwrapping the bubble wrap.

 

Nestled within seemed to be thick, almost shining, dark blue plastic, and she traced a finger over the smooth edges of thick plastic before pulling the piece out to note bits of metal as well, just as smoothed over. Another rummage through the box revealed another similar piece, at first alien to her, but soon becoming comprehensible.

 

“....My designs.” Nunnally said with awe.

 

“Yes,” Sayoko confirmed, helping clear away the bubble wrap each time Nunnally unwrapped a piece of what would be a renewed design of the metal harness Earl Asplund made for her the first time around. “I believe Lord Ashford had them fashioned— in the design of the Ganymede. He said it was fitting.”

 

Looking at it now, it did look more like armor for a Knightmare Frame that she originally intended, but then again— it was a prototype. She wasn’t sure how well plastic would hold up in the first place, but it made sense to use a cheaper material for a test product.

 

“Would you like help putting it on?” Sayoko asked, crouching before her. “I’ve read up on the instructions this morning, and should be able to assist you.”

 

“Can I?” Nunnally asked, feeling awed. She imagined it would take much longer before she regained her mobility— months, maybe. But having been here for a week now, and she already manage to not only change things up entirely, but regain her eyesight and now— maybe her legs as well.

 

“Of course. Should anything happen, we are already in a hospital and several nurses have been informed of your condition already.”

 

Nunnally looked up at her with wide, shining eyes, and nodded her assent.

  


—

  


An hour later, Nunnally was back in her wheelchair, having exhausted herself attempting to walk on untested technology— her first attempt hadn’t fared as well as she hoped, although it was infinitely better than the first time she tried the harness originally, barely able to move it at all and not understanding the compatibility that Lloyd insisted about.

 

It would take a lot more adjustments and fine-tuning, she knew. It would have to be a machine catered to her and not the other way around, to leave for no room for error. But the important part— it _worked_. It was exhausting, required immense concentration, and didn’t move to the full range she originally hoped for, but she could walk. Sit. Stand. They didn’t test running, on account of Nunnally’s jerky movements, and winces after a few minutes and the plastic started digging uncomfortably against her joints and back.

 

But she kept it on, under her dress and over her shoes, revelling in newfound freedom despite the wheelchair she was still trapped in. Oh, she thought as she sat by Lelouch’s bedside, she would have so much to tell her brother when he woke. He should be so surprised.

 

She still had to inform Sayoko of Geass, not knowing how to explain it at first and then consumed by her enthusiasm for Lord Ashford’s gift and the dozens of questions thrown at her not only by her maid, but also several nurses who followed them around as Nunnally made her way up and down the hospital corridor.

 

Sayoko was gone again, off to give Ruben a phone call with the complete synopsis of how the leg braces worked for Nunnally, all the good and bad.

 

Another knock on the door, and Nunnally looked up, not bothering to call out.

 

The door opened, just as she expected, but the face that looked in made her jerk up and lose the exhilaration of the previous hour.

 

“Alice,” Nunnally greeted with wide-eyes. The other girl— her best friend, really, looked distant. Blond hair tied up in twin tails, short and lean with a figure that spoke volumes about her inclination towards sports and physical activities… she had never seen Alice that young before. By the time Nunnally made her way back… Alice had been a high schooler at that point.

 

Now, however, her blue eyes looked like glass— reflecting nothing of her thoughts, even as her lips thinned out at the sight of Nunnally with her eyes open.

 

“I heard from the teachers,” Alice said, moving into the room and closing the door behind herself, but not going any closer as she leaned against the wall by the door. “That something happened. And I— Miss Ashford gave me a pass, so I came as quick as I could.”

 

Alice looked down, and that glass look in her eyes disappeared into something more hurt, something human and disappointed. “....I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

 

Nunnally shook her head, and then reached out a hand toward Alice. “No, I— I’m glad you were safe! If something happened to you, too, I don’t know what I would have done.”

 

As expected, Alice moved toward her with that invitation, until she was close enough for Nunnally to reach her, to hold onto her hand and pull her closer, and Alice stood awkwardly at Lelouch’s bedside, looking away.

 

“You didn’t tell me.” Alice told her, and Nunnally knew then the second part was an accusation.

 

“I lost my phone.” And all her pictures, the ones she saved so diligently, unless she could get it back somehow, if Mao hadn’t destroyed it. There were backups saved, of course, but those would have to wait until she could get back home and back onto her computer. “And then I just— everything was overwhelming.”

 

She should have thought to call Alice, but there was too much to deal with. At that reminder, Alice finally seemed to slump her shoulders, the last of the tension escaping as she hovered by the arm of her wheelchair.

 

“You have such pretty eyes,” Alice told her quietly. “I always knew they’d be beautiful.”

 

Nunnally sat up a little at the compliment, smiling wide. “I’m so glad I get to see you now, Alice. I always wanted to— ever since the very first day. You look just like I imagined. You’re amazing.”

 

The two girls giggled a bit, awkwardness dissipating.

 

“How did it happen?” Alice asked, pulling up one of the big heavy seats that had been placed by the sofa for waiting family members. It barely scraped under her strength, and she sat down onto the hard cushions with a slight grimace. “Your eyes— you can see everything? Clearly?”

 

“Yes.” Nunnally told her, and breathed out a deep sigh. At least it was the first time someone asked her that. She wondered if she wanted to wait to tell the story, or whether she would be okay with telling it multiple times to multiple people. Cornelia would still want to know, that was for sure. But then again, Nunnally barely recalled anything of the entire event, so it wouldn’t be a long tale. “I don’t recall when, exactly. I was blindfolded.”

 

“That sucks.” Alice commented with a frown, leaning toward. “You couldn’t open your eyes to begin with! Man, that sounds like a real dick move.”

 

“To be fair,” Nunnally said hesitantly, “I suppose I did manage to open my eyes during that encounter, in all likelihood. So that might have been warranted. It’s just that….” she trailed off, frowning. It didn’t matter if she said it again. It was done and over with, and Lelouch was _fine_. Alice would give her all the time she needed to gather her thoughts, which might not be as kind as others who wanted to know exactly what happened, how, and why.

 

There was nothing she could really tell Cornelia. The good thing would be that it wasn’t truly a lie— she _had_ been abducted, she hadn’t seen anything, and had been unconscious for the majority of the time. And with Shirley’s memories… blocked, then Lelouch would be the only one who might know what really happened.

 

She looked up at Alice, sweet and kind Alice, always there for her whenever other students tried to pick on her either because of her disability or for her privileges, always so strong no matter what, and whom she once lost like everyone else in her life.

 

“...I don’t know,” she said, feeling lame and watching with guilt as something in Alice’s eyes dimmed at her vagueness. “I wish I wasn’t so— weak, I suppose. And that I knew what to do. What if I told you…. What if I knew something like this was going to happen? Except I was wrong as well, and because of that I was taken completely off guard… is it even worth it, then? Knowing what might happen?”

 

Alice was quiet for a moment. “...Is this what you feared when you went to contact… the princesses?”

 

“...A little bit.” Nunnally admitted. Her gaze fell back to her brother, and her hand tightened on his slack one.

 

“Your dream?”

 

“It ended up worse than my dream.” Nunnally said reluctantly. “But this is just… one scene. In my dream, things get so much worse. If I tried to change things… and the beginning got even worse, then what am I doing wrong?”

 

“Was I there?”

 

Nunnally startled, turning her gaze over to Alice, who was staring at her intently. “What?”

 

“Was I there?” Alice asked again, “In your dream?”

 

“I—” Nunnally blinked, feeling flabbergasted, “...No, I suppose not.”

 

“Maybe I can change things,” Alice suggested. “Whatever you’re scared of, Nunnally, you don’t have to carry it all alone.”

 

The sentiment was a sweet one, a common one, especially coming from Alice, and it shouldn’t have been enough to make her cry. Maybe it was because of the moment, being in the hospital and with her brother still tethered to such scary looking machines that exhausted Nunnally’s ability to reign in her emotions, because she felt herself tearing up slightly at the reassurance and could do nothing but nod in agreement as Alice gave her a determined look.

 

Alice smiled at the nod. “Just… think about it, okay? I’ll be here.”

 

“I will.” Nunnally promised.

 

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, and Nunnally felt herself relaxing next to Alice with the vague knowledge that the other girl was— _safe_ , somehow. Like a small haven she could rest at, a place that wouldn’t add to her stresses while she worried over Lelouch.

 

That quiet peace didn’t last long, as there was another knock on the door, and it opened to reveal Euphie, this time dressed in a more casual dress— still in hiding, it seemed, but not as rough and thorough as the day previous. She was accompanied by Suzaku, who had been the one to open the door for her.

 

“Oh,” Euphemia looked surprised to see the two of them. “Good morning!”

 

Nunnally murmured her greetings in response, although Alice stayed quiet and watchful. When the other two stepped into the room, she asked, “...Isn’t it only supposed to be two people at a time?”

 

“Oh, Nellie managed to get them to revoke that this morning.” Euphemia admitted with an embarrassed smile. “...I think the nurses just didn’t want to deal with her anymore. There’s a few instructions we need to follow to stay out of the way, but this room should be big enough for more than a few people.”

 

A glance over at Alice saw that the other girl seemed rather cautious about the presence of Princess Euphemia, but also that her gaze lingered on Suzaku’s form as well, just as the boy gave her a curious look in return.

 

Nunnally didn’t feel inclined to introduce them, although she couldn’t say why.

 

Euphemia pulled up a chair to sit on the other side of the bed, giving a hesitant smile as she looked over Lelouch’s prone form. “...He’s got more color than yesterday.”

 

It was true, and Nunnally turned her attention back to her brother again, tightening her grasp on his hand. It wasn’t much of an improvement, but anything was better than the way he looked yesterday, pale to the point of trying to blend in with the sheets.

 

“He’s going to be okay,” she said, mostly to convince herself of it. The heart monitor stayed steady all the previous day and night, and it was enough Nunnally found herself relaxing to the sound in her sleep. Hearing the steadiness now was soothing to her frazzled emotions.

 

Some of the machines were still rather alarming, and there were the regular shifts of nurses who came in, even through the night, to check on things, but they were all calm and had nothing but good things to say for Nunnally.

 

She would have been fine with the addition of Euphemia and Suzaku if the door hadn’t opened once more, this time without the knock, and Cornelia and Guilford showed up as well, also in a form of casual dress, although it certainly didn’t do much to hide their distinctive features.

 

“Good,” Cornelia said as the door closed behind herself and her knight, “the both of you are already here. I won’t have to send anyone to find you, then.”

 

Four might have been a comfortable fit, but six was now starting to feel crowded despite the large amount of space the room held. Nunnally squirmed in her seat and frowned, even as Cornelia seemed to glance over at Alice and then dismiss her presence despite the slight narrowing of her eyes.

 

Nunnally frowned at the exchange, although she didn’t say anything.

 

Cornelia seemed to spare a glance toward Lelouch’s prone form and her expression turned pained for a moment to see a younger sibling in such a state, before she turned her attention toward Nunnally and Euphemia. “I’ve told the two of you what I expect.”

 

Euphie frowned, tensing up as she protested, “It’s not even been a full day! You can’t expect us to have an answer so quickly!”

 

“I can and I will,” Cornelia told her promptly. “The three of you are to choose knights if you want to continue on your current paths. We’ve already lost Clovis, and now with Lelouch... “ the words faltered, although her resolve only strengthened at the twist of her lips. “If need be, I can provide a list of individuals who would make fine knights, and give you a day or two to choose. If not, I will be sending you back to Pendragon.”

 

The statement was directed at Euphemia, who wilted dramatically, but Nunnally couldn’t help the disdain as she sat up straighter to challenge her half-sister.

 

“And me?” She asked, raising her chin defiantly. “Would you send me back to Pendragon if I refuse?”

 

Pendragon and the Imperial Court would be a disaster, with their darwinistic values and backstabbing nobles. It would be a death trap for Nunnally, stuck in her wheelchair and too young and frail to fight back without her brother’s sharp tongue and ire at her back. The best that would happen would be her being stripped of her title as princess and then shipped right back to the Areas.

 

The worst that could happen might involve a political marriage without Lelouch there to fight off every attempt of the empire’s to use her for its own gains.

 

Not that Nunnally would take any of this lying down, but Cornelia would not know it.

 

“Would you send me away from my brother?” Nunnally demanded to know.

 

“Don’t test me,” Her sister told her sharply. “This is not as unreasonable a demand as the two of you make it out to be. A Knight of Honor is the right of any member of the royal family, and it is an honor for the one chosen as well. Perhaps I’m rushing you on this, but I will value your safety over your comfort any day.”

 

Her gaze slid over to Lelouch, and this time it really was pained as she watched the faint rise and fall of his chest.

 

“I won’t let this happen again.” Cornelia said quietly.

 

For a moment, Nunnally remembered the pain in Cornelia’s eyes— the Cornelia that she knew, the one who continuously mourned Euphie’s death, and who had a rage in her eyes when Lelouch was brought up. Nunnally remembered the quiet guilt and the admission that, had she found them before everything slid downhill, she would have done what she could to protect them.

 

This, she thinks, was likely what Cornelia meant, although it hadn’t been what Nunnally expected.

 

She tensed her jaw and looked away, unsure now whether she was so against the idea because it would interfere with her plans, or because she was just mad that Cornelia hadn’t seemed to care before, as unfair as that sounded. As it was, she almost missed the nervous look that Euphemia seemed to throw at Suzaku when he wasn’t looking in her direction.

 

Almost.

 

“If it helps,” Cornelia added, voice softening slightly, “I would not pair you with someone unsuitable. You will need someone who can accompany you at all times if possible, and fit in wherever you choose to go.”

 

And this time, this time she couldn’t miss the glance that Suzaku seemed to steal toward Lelouch, the mixture of guilt and worry and slight hope, and she just— she _couldn’t_.

 

“Fine,” Nunnally conceded, trying hard to conceal the panic in her tone. “If we agree, we get to choose who it is, right?”

 

Cornelia’s indigo eyes turned in her direction, surprised to see her acquiescing so easily. “Of course.”

 

“Nunnally, what are you doing?” Euphemia asked, surprised. “You were so against it yesterday…”

 

“Suzaku.” She blurted out. She tightened her grip on her brother’s hand, hoping to gain just the slightest bit more courage from him. _Please_ , she thought desperately, _I’m doing this for you._ She could see Cornelia’s expression twisting with displeasure already, and continued in a rush, “You said we get to choose. He’s in the military and goes to school with me. We’re already friends so no one would question if we— we hang out more.”

 

All of that would apply better for Lelouch, but he wasn’t awake to make that point, and Nunnally could only pray that no one brought it up in his stead. Her heart was pounding in her chest, feeling as if she was passing through an invisible checkpoint of some sort, like she was once again changing things in a manner that wouldn’t be reversible.

 

“He’s,” Cornelia didn’t even look in Suzaku’s direction, and Nunnally couldn’t either right now, not when she was willing her half-sister to agree with her. “...not on the list.”

 

It was a much, much nicer way of saying he didn’t qualify because he wasn’t Britannian.

 

“It’s my choice.” Nunnally insisted, feeling almost like things were finally starting to divert from the SAZ incident, from Zero Requiem. It was unfair of her— it was always unfair of her— but Suzaku had been Euphie’s knight, had been Lelouch’s knight… and Nunnally refused to go down that path again.

 

Bless Euphie, who seemed to freeze in shock for only a few moments before she rallied behind Nunnally’s choice eagerly despite what she must have felt. “She’s right! They go to school together, and Suzaku is a perfectly capable fighter.”

 

“I will have a list for you,” Cornelia tried to overwrite them on that, but Euphie wasn’t having any of it.

 

“And then what? If Nunnally wants to go back to school, then she’s going to need people she knows, or people in school with her. You can’t just send some well known noble to classes with her— everyone would get suspicious.”

 

Nunnally nodded at that, grasping at the logic. “If you want me to choose, then I choose Suzaku.”

 

It was only then that Cornelia seemed more than just aggravated by that, her eyes drifting over to Nunnally’s side. “...Fine. For now.”

 

Nunnally didn’t know if she had the courage yet to look over to Suzaku and see his reaction to being passed around like— like an object, really, and she didn’t want to see his disappointment in her. She turned her head to the side, and—

 

Blue eyes were staring at her, with the very same disappointment she dreaded seeing.

 

Nunnally sputtered. “Alice…”

 

“A better choice,” Cornelia agreed dryly. “I admit, I originally thought you would insist on your friend.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Alice said, drawing back even as Nunnally made an aborted attempt to reach out to her. The blonde girl stood up, nearly knocking her chair over in her haste, tone empty and at the same time full of— something. “I just need a moment. I’ll— I’ll talk to you later, Nunnally. I forgot I—”

 

She didn’t finish the statement, instead turning quickly and then pushing past the door in two steps, not giving Nunnally any time to protest.

 

Nunnally gaped, a hand frozen in the air to reach out after her best friend.

 

“Well.” Cornelia added after having witnessed that exchange. She didn’t sound pleased, but at the same time there was a note of resignation and dry humor in her voice. “If that’s your choice, then I suppose I’ll work on a list for Euphemia, then.”

 

That, at least, seemed to make Euphie slump a little, even if she didn’t protest.

  


—

  


Whatever it was that Alice had forgotten, it carried her away from the hospital in general, as Nunnally didn’t see her again that afternoon. Instead, she mulled over her panicked decision, and Cornelia left soon after, having pressed a gentle hand against both Lelouch and Nunnally’s cheeks before she did, and taking Euphemia with her this time, Suzaku going with her.

 

Sayoko returned soon after, a pleasant smile on her face when she saw Nunnally, which somehow only made her feel worse.

 

“They had your phone,” Sayoko told her, and handed her a plastic evidence bag encasing a pink-cased phone. “And I had your test result from the previous hospital visit forwarded here as well. Lord Ashford also has a copy, and I have a third for the case when Princess Cornelia requests one as well.”

 

“Would you give her a copy?” Nunnally asked quietly, accepting both the files and the bag. She rested it against her lap, before opening up the pale manilla folder to read the typed words.

 

“Only if you permitted it.” Sayoko soothed. “By the way, several of your friends are here and waiting for you outside if you feel like speaking with them.”

 

Nunnally straightened up hopefully. “Alice…?”

 

But Sayoko just shook her head. “The student council, Mistress Nunnally.”

 

“Oh…” Nunnally looked back down to her lap, at her medical results that suddenly didn’t feel as interesting. She hadn’t meant to hurt Alice’s feelings, hadn’t meant to— she was just so caught up in her own panic at that moment, and it felt like the only action she could take to prevent that very future was to ensure that— that—

 

“I think I really hurt her feelings,” Nunnally told Sayoko in a whisper, tangling her fingers together above the papers. She looked over to her brother, willing him to wake up so she could— talk to him. Ask him for advice. Lelouch would know what to do. What would he say? How would he react? What would he have done to fix things?

 

“I’m certain you didn’t mean to,” Sayoko reassured her, fussing on the other side of Lelouch’s bed now, adjusting the sheets and carefully tucking his hair behind his ear. She looked— lost, for a moment, before she smiled once again. “And perhaps the best way to resolve those feelings would be to give her some time, and then apologize.”

 

She fidgeted with the papers on her lap, telling her name (fake), blood type, medical history… her test results looked quite average, from what she recalled of medical facts, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. There were a few elevated chemicals in her brain, but nothing that stood out.

 

After years and years of hospital visits, Nunnally knew most of these facts about herself.

 

Everything seemed to be going wrong. The whole encounter with Mao, Cornelia taking over her life, ruining everything she did previously to build up trust with Alice… She kept making these mistakes.

 

“Miss Sayoko?” She looked up, and the maid responded with a distracted humming noise as she bustled about the room, shifting things to her satisfaction. Nunnally wondered if the nurses might be irritated later, but didn’t want to tell her to stop. “Can I… tell you something?”

 

She told C.C. earlier that she would trust in Sayoko, and she needed to keep that end of her word.

 

Nunnally raised a hand to her eye as Sayoko turned her attention to her.

 

“There’s a few things I need,” she said, quiet, and then decided that if anyone deserved to know, then it would be Sayoko. The maid had taken care of them, looked after them and kept all their secrets and tended to their hurts for the past…. Half decade, at least. If there was one person in the whole world whom she could trust to not have ulterior motives that would betray her, it was Sayoko.

 

She took a deep breath, and started to explain.

  


—

  


Nunnally went for another attempted walking session as the sky started to clear, the grey clouds moving back to reveal blue skies slowly starting to tint gold and pink with oncoming sunset. She didn’t last as long as she did in the morning, but the nurses ensured her that it was fine. Milly and Shirley stayed with Lelouch on the interim, promising to get her the moment that anything changed, with Shirley’s eyes wide and amazed at the contraption Nunnally was stepping in, even as Milly gave her a weak smile as Nunnally shifted endlessly in her wheelchair in attempts to strap everything on correctly.

 

“Maybe we’ll be able to host a ball soon,” she said quietly, not to overwhelm the sounds of the machines in the room, “Lelouch always vetoed my ideas for balls.”

 

Shirley made a noise in protest, but Nunnally just said calmly, “He’ll be back to vetoing them again soon enough.”

 

“Maybe not, if you can dance in them.”

 

She didn’t last twenty minutes this time, although now she stopped by the wide floor to ceiling windows of the hospital hallway in a stretch that had very little people but a scattering of empty seats. Nunnally stared out at the sky in her wheelchair with her legs underneath a thin blanket, letting the weak sunshine wash over her and not paying attention to the movements on the ground.

 

Eventually, she would return to Lelouch’s room. Sayoko was out, getting her specialized contact lenses to fully match her eye color, and she was vaguely aware of disguised Glaston Knights, their presence more intense than the average civilian, far enough away from her to give her space, but close enough that should anything happen, they would be there.

 

The longer her brother slumbered peacefully without complications, the nurses assured her, the more it meant that his recovery would progress smoothly. Britannian medical sciences were quite advanced for injuries like gunshot wounds. They had plenty of practice on soldiers during wartime.

 

She was… organizing her thoughts. Or at least attempting to without her mind blanking out on her, because everything felt so exhausting now after the previous day. She didn’t want to think about what happened that morning, anymore, or the ultimatum that Cornelia threw down at her and Euphie.

 

Instead, she thought upon Sayoko’s reaction to her words, to her revelations, and how the maid sat next to her and waited for her to finish telling her story. Nunnally hadn’t revealed everything, couldn’t when she couldn’t possibly know the whole story and most of it might be irrelevant to her anyway, but she said enough: about her ‘dreams’, about the future and her fears, about the power that let her know what was going to happen.

 

It was thrilling to confide in Sayoko, to give away so much of her thoughts and plans with the danger that they might be revealed to those she couldn’t trust, but…

 

It was something about Sayoko’s fond smiles, and her warm hands, and her patience when waiting for Nunnally to confide in her. It was the way she laughed, and how she would tuck Nunnally and Lelouch’s hair behind their ears with a smile and make sure they didn’t skip meals.

 

The way she carefully tucked weapons out of sight, and the fluid efficiency of her movements that barely hinted at anything more than a nursemaid. It was the way she so very carefully took over Nunnally’s wheelchair in the mornings, and asked about their days in the evenings.

 

Nunnally remembered only bits and pieces of her mother, had no fond memories of her father, and often considered Lelouch to be all the parental figure she needed despite the fact that he was barely much older than her, but if she were to think of a mother figure, then Sayoko was the one who came to mind.

 

C.C. was right, and her words would be Nunnally’s guiding star. She knew Sayoko could be trusted with information about the future, that the maid would never betray them no matter the conflicting interests or circumstances. Nunnally knew all of that as surely as she knew that Sayoko loved the Lamperouge siblings dearly.

 

She didn’t look away from the window even as she heard the hesitant footsteps down the hallway, light and sure in a way that couldn’t hide her grace and confidence no matter how much the owner of the footsteps liked to pretend to be frail and sickly.

 

“Hello, Kallen,” she spoke up, listening as the older girl startled. Nunnally only smiled to herself ruefully, remembering all the instances when others saw her wheelchair, saw her closed eyes, and would assume her slow or useless. No one seemed to understand that it only meant she was more perceptive than others would take her for, and that things like Kallen’s little act in school fell flat for her when she could hear the wide strides as surely as she could smell the faint gunpowder and oil in the other girl’s hair.

 

“Nunnally.”

 

And here, she turned, watching as the girl with tired blue eyes give her a hesitant smile.

 

“Milly said you’d be out here.” The redheaded girl said, and lifted up her hands to show the bottle of water and snack she brought with her. “And that you might be out here for a while.”

 

Milly always did know them too well, but Nunnally barely responded to that, entwining her fingers together on her lap and looking away again.

 

Kallen seemed to take that as an invitation to move closer and sit next to her, setting the food at the edge of her lap on the crease of her short uniform skirt.

 

“I— how are you holding up?”

 

Nunnally was quiet a moment, contemplating the clouds and doing her best not to think of the morning’s events. (How badly had she messed up this time? How were her actions and decisions going to spread out in the future? What if everything she was trying to do was in vain?) How was she holding up? How was she supposed to be holding up?

 

She wondered over Kallen’s words, and then the words of wisdom an older version of her attempted to give.

 

“Do you have any siblings?” Nunnally asked instead, bypassing the question entirely and keeping her eyes still on the clouds.

 

It seemed to startle Kallen enough to quiet her.

 

“I have a lot.” Nunnally revealed. “My father, he… had a lot of marriages. So they’re all half-siblings, except for Lelouch. He’s the only one I… I’m not close with the rest of them. On… decent terms with one or two. But the only one I can rely on, the only one I could always rely on, was Lelouch. Ever since our mother died… we left Britannia. Don’t want to go back. Our family… really follows the traditional Britannian values, and I’m not— suitable.”

 

She looked down at her hands, pale and small, and flexed her fingers.

 

“Couldn’t walk, couldn’t see…” her lip curled back in disdain. “I was seven, and they would have left me for dead. But Lelouch didn’t. He was just a kid, and he… took over. Learned how to cook, how to clean, how to take care of me… My brother’s taken care of me ever since then. He’s— he’s the only real family I have, even if I still care for and love other members of my family. I’d do anything for him. I don’t know what I’d be without him.”

 

She couldn’t look up at Kallen. Not yet.

 

“Every time I had a nightmare… or felt that my world was going to fall apart… he’d be there. And he’d tell me that everything was going to be okay. And I— I’d believe him. If Lelouch said it, then it had to be true.”

 

“Nunnally,” this time, it was Kallen who interrupted, voice soft even as she drew Nunnally’s attention to her. The older girl smiled, something soft in her blue eyes as she continued, “he’s going to be okay.”

 

“It was my fault,” Nunnally insisted, caught in the downward spiral of her thoughts, her fingers curling together. “It’s always me.”

 

“You can’t blame yourself,” Kallen insisted. “You were _kidnapped_. You weren’t the one who caused this. You weren’t the one who shot Lelouch.”

 

“That man was aiming _at me_ .” Nunnally squeezed her eyes shut, all out of tears, nothing but dust and the echo of a hole in her heart. “All of this happened because _of me_.” Maybe it wasn’t her fault that Mao got involved, but she could have done something, should have done something, because she knew he was dangerous and that he was coming for them.

 

Kallen was quiet for a moment, perhaps to let her process her thoughts, until, “Well, that seems awfully self-centered.”

 

That startled her into opening her eyes again and staring up at the older girl incredulously.

 

“What?”

 

Kallen had a frown on her face, eyes unusually hard and disapproving. “I get it, you know. I’m a younger sister too. Na— Nathan was everything to me. I thought the world of him. He was brave and strong and kind, and he was always helping people. Always _fighting_ for other people. He’d see a cause, and he’d just latch right onto it because if he didn’t fight, then who would? I wanted to be just like him when I grew up.”

 

Nunnally’s eyes were round with this information.

 

The other girl seemed to slump into her seat, head hanging down so that her hair partially covered her expression.

 

“I honestly thought Lelouch was kind of a jerk at first. The way he talked to people, like he just expected them to follow what he said… it was arrogant and selfish. Not to mention half the girls in class would have given so much just for him to say good morning to them, but he’d just ignore them. He was so— distant. Cold. How he never seemed to _care_ about anything… I couldn’t stand it. When Milly said that it was Lelouch’s idea for me to join the student council… I didn’t want to. I thought it was just another dumb and selfish thing of his.”

 

Kallen huffed a breathy laugh, and raised a hand to rub at her eyes warily.

 

“And then I met you. And he was a completely different person with you, and I— I’m not _interested_ in him or anything! But I… got it. What all the other girls were talking about. Don’t get me wrong, I still think he’s arrogant and spoiled and selfish and— but. I don’t think he’s that bad anymore. He’s— he’s a good friend. A good person. And anyone can see he’s a good brother.”

 

Nunnally was quiet. She didn’t think she should ask, but with the way Kallen looked as the other girl raised her head and stared at the ceiling, sliding down the chair just low enough that she could rest the back of her head on the backrest and look up at white tiles with suspiciously shiny eyes, she thought that maybe she had to ask.

 

“....And Nathan?”

 

“The best brother.” Kallen whispered, lips twisted up into a grimace of a smile. “There are consequences of fighting for the little guys, though. There was an incident, and he— never made it to the hospital.”

 

Nunnally looked away, unable to bear the expression on Kallen’s face. It was too similar— looked like the the one she saw in the mirror each morning in the future.

 

“I’m sorry.” She said, because the words needed to be said even if it was all but meaningless.

 

Kallen tilted her head in Nunnally’s direction, and now her smile was a little more genuine. “...That’s how I know. That Lelouch is going to be okay. There’s nothing else that’s as important to him as you are, so don’t dismiss him so easily just yet. What happened wasn’t your fault, and I think your big brother would be mad if he knew you were blaming yourself for it.”

 

That got Nunnally to choke out a wet laugh, and she sniffled and rubbed at dry eyes. “...That’s a lie. He never gets angry at me.”

 

Nunnally didn’t know how to tell Kallen just how wrong she was about Lelouch, because her brother was also another person who could never stand by and watch an injustice without trying to do something about it. That he wasn’t as apathetic as he appeared to be, because he always cared too much. That there were many things he would throw himself into the frey for, and that Nunnally feared one day he would also get caught up in a situation he couldn’t handle, and never make it home.

 

“Disappointed, then,” Kallen amended, and then pushed away from her chair to gesture to her face with her hands, pushing a wrinkle between her eyes. “You’ll get the same look that Milly always gets from him when he’s disappointed in all her decisions and doesn’t know how to say it…”

 

It made her giggle. “He always has something to say about her decisions!”

 

“Yes,” Kallen told her. “And I’m sure he’ll still have plenty more to say.”

 

It was an unexpected side and tenderness to Kallen that she never expected, and for a moment, Nunnally thought that she could understand the other girl a little better. Understand why she pushed herself to fight, and to hide, and to throw herself alongside the Black Knights but still pretend to be nothing more than a sweet and demure schoolgirl by day. She saw the echo of a girl who lost a beloved brother, and would do anything to see his dreams come to fruition.

 

Seeing that, Nunnally leaned over unexpectedly in her wheelchair and wrapped her arms around Kallen’s waist, ignoring the sudden tensing and how the older girl lifted her arms, unsure of how to respond. Instead, Nunnally just laid her head on Kallen’s shoulder and closed her eyes, feeling a little more at peace with herself— calmer than she felt all day. All yesterday.

 

Here was someone who understood, Nunnally thought, even if Kallen herself didn’t know it.

 

It took a long minute before Kallen awkwardly patted Nunnally on her back, and then eventually relaxed enough to gently hug her back.

 

“Okay,” she heard Kallen’s nervous whisper, “Um. This is a thing now.”

 

Nunnally’s only just managed to muffle her giggles into the older girl’s school uniform.

  


—

  


She needed to talk to Suzaku. Needed to talk with Cornelia, and review with Sayoko, and figure things out with Alice, and get her plans together and make sure she could properly walk and stay with her brother and—

 

It was all overwhelming, and Nunnally just found herself sitting at her brother’s bedside again, her head pillowed in her arms on the bed as she listened to the heart monitor and the heavy whir of machinery helping him breathe. Her brief interlude with Kallen calmed her down a little from the fiasco that morning, but there was still the anxiety that she was messing everything up.

 

“What would you do?” Nunnally whispered, asking her silent brother. “If you were in my situation?”

 

There was no answer but the steady beep of the heart monitor, and she closed her eyes for a moment just to listen and let the sound lull her to calmness.

 

“What have I gotten myself into?” She asked aloud, and shifted to accommodate the growing ache in her neck.

 

Outside, the evening was still bright with the lingering wisps of fading light, already overwhelmed by the fluorescent bulbs in the hospital room, and she could see other buildings in the distance light up as well, drowning out the remaining daylight outside.

 

By now, the click of the door as it opened was familiar to her, although Nunnally only turned her head slightly to see who walked in this time without knocking, and narrowed her eyes to see C.C.’s figure silhouetted in the light from the hallway as she slipped inside and closed the door behind her.

 

“I need to talk to you,” the woman told her, as toneless and demanding as ever.

 

“I thought you were only here to make sure Lelouch would survive.” Nunnally responded dryly. She already had too much to deal with, without adding C.C.’s cryptic and vaguely ominous advice to her list. “And that you didn’t care about our affairs otherwise.”

 

She wondered what the Black Knights were doing, with their leader missing. She wondered if Kallen was starting to piece things together.

 

C.C. managed to cover the distance of the room in three strides, and she reached to grab at Nunnally’s chin, holding the girl’s head up roughly to examine her eyes.

 

“What—?” Nunnally scoffed and struggled a bit in the woman’s hold, hands coming up to grab at her wrist. “What are you doing? Let go of me!”

 

“It’s progressing faster than I expected.” C.C. said with a frown, and Nunnally stopped struggling. “How long have you had your Geass?”

 

Nunnally scowled, and jerked her chin from her grasp. “...You know how long.”

 

“A week,” the witch surmised, and stepped back, straightening up again. “Is it the proximity…?”

 

“You said that before— it progressing faster than you expected. But it’s not like I can turn it off, not if I want to stay here, and it shouldn’t matter if this becomes permanent or not. I’ve already made my decision.”

 

“And you don’t understand any of it,” C.C. said slowly, disappointed. “That your Geass is not the only one affected. Your brother’s has progressed further than I anticipated as well, and it may be caused by the two of you both using it in tandem.”

 

Nunnally didn’t think so, not when C.C. had revealed to her already in the future how she hadn’t expected Lelouch’s Geass to evolve so fast. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to tell the younger C.C. that.

 

“It’s unusual.” C.C. murmured to herself, amber eyes narrowed as she considered Nunnally. She moved to sit at Lelouch’s bedside, and Nunnally shifted almost defensively, turning her wheelchair slightly to face the woman. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her, no matter what the C.C. in the future said, but rather that she couldn’t help but be too aware of just how defenseless her brother was, especially in the face of C.C.’s apparent apathy.

 

She would have been just as defensive right now even if Suzaku had been in the room.

 

“Your Geass is unusual,” C.C. reiterated, tilting her head with apparent curiosity. Her long green hair slid over a shoulder like a wave of silk, a stain on the strange white outfit she wore that reminded Nunnally of a prisoner of war with it’s dangling straps that could be tied together to ensure a person wouldn’t be able to escape. “This is the first time I’ve heard of _time travel_ as an ability. How did you do it? What’s tying you here, to this time in particular, I wonder?”

 

“It’s where I want to be.” Nunnally responded after the silence after that question got to be too much for her. While normally she was quite happy to know that C.C. was making time to speak with her, now wasn’t the time she wanted a cryptic conversation. There were just too many other things for her to deal with, and she wanted just a few hours to clear her head before she got started. “Why are you asking now?”

 

“How much do you know about Geass?” C.C. countered. “How much did the me of the future tell you?”

 

“You can’t keep expecting me to answer your questions when you won’t answer mine.” Nunnally told her with a frown.

 

“Yet you ask questions of others while offering up nothing valuable in return.” C.C. told her, but then seemed to smile wryly. “Hiding under a mask while you lead others to do what you want, lying to everyone in hopes if creating a future suitable for you. My, my. You _are_ his little sister, after all.”

 

“I want to create a future where he can be happy.” Nunnally said, not bothering to refute the claims.

 

C.C. reached to trail a curious finger down the side of Nunnally’s face. “It’s funny. He’s expressed the same thing about you. And yet here we are.”

 

Here they were, with Lelouch having given everything to build the world that Nunnally would succeed in, and Nunnally having given up that world for the chance at saving Lelouch. With his good intentions scarring her heart, and her good intentions now landing him in the hospital.

 

“You wouldn’t be here if that’s the only thing you wanted to tell me.” Nunnally told her. She didn’t want to linger on her own mistakes any longer. “So what is it?”

 

The witch drew back. “You don’t seem worried about the progression of your Geass.”

 

“Thank you for the warning,” Nunnally told her as politely as possible, “but it won’t mean anything to me if this Geass turns on forever.”

 

C.C.’s expression turned sly. “Tell me what you know of Geass, and maybe I’ll tell you something about yours.”

 

Nunnally looked back toward her brother.

 

“...And this is urgent to you?” She asked.

 

“Very little is urgent to me. You’ll find that our definitions of time are drastically different. If I tell you something is urgent, assume that it applies to you and I’m hurrying out of the goodness of my heart.” C.C. told her with a little smile, like the words brought a joke to her forethoughts. She leaned back with her hands on the bed, her eyes flickering up the white bandage Nunnally had at her temple, covering the bruise and small cut she got while under Mao’s hold. “You’re handling this awfully well.”

 

“Am I?” That didn’t sound right. She wondered about her own situation, about her seesawing emotions and her desperate hope and deep despair in turns. If she thought about it logically, she hadn’t been the one who spurred Mao on to attack Lelouch like this, no matter how much she could try to blame herself.

 

The timeline she had been given hadn’t been correct… or at least, there was information that none of them knew beforehand. He arrived much earlier than anticipated, or had been here longer than they all imagined before he made his move the first time around.

 

Just knowing that Nunnally knew something different had spurred him into action this time, and when she thought about it, Lelouch would never blame her for that.

 

“Lelouch would have handled it better,” Nunnally concluded her thoughts, staring down blankly at her lap.

 

C.C. snorted. “Lelouch stepped right into Mao’s trap in the dumbest manner because he lost all semblance of common sense the moment he saw you were in danger. Don’t give him that much credit here. You’re allowed to think him fallible.”

 

It was reminiscent of what C.C. told her in the future, about her brother’s great plans falling apart the moment the ones he loved were in danger.

 

It was also more emotion that Nunnally had seen from the C.C. of this era, and she wondered if somehow the woman was slowly growing fond of Lelouch after all. It made her wonder how her brother managed that when all Nunnally could do was push C.C. into distrusting her more and more each time.

 

Give and take, she thought. Maybe she really had taken what the C.C. of the future said too much to heart. It was one thing not to completely trust the C.C. of now with everything that happens in the future, but another thing entirely to not trust her at all.

 

“I know that… my parents had Geass,” Nunnally confessed, turning the topic back to the beginning. “That my brother has it… and now I have it. So I know I’m not the first.” If anything, she was the last. “I know that it’s a— mental ability, of sorts. It doesn’t affect things like machines, only people. That there are limits, and that it eventually takes over.”

 

That seemed to draw the cool amber gaze, hooded and calculating.

 

“You know about Charles and Marianne,” C.C. concluded.

 

She had only vague recollections and memories not her own to confirm it, and then after that she only knew more because Suzaku and C.C. in the future had given her in the information as warning— because the Emperor’s Geass was fearsome and powerful, and it also meant that his mother might still be alive somewhere. They hadn’t specified, but Nunnally had a feeling it was because they feared changing too much just by giving her that information.

 

She nodded in confirmation.

 

There was a moment of silence, and then the witch huffed out a low laugh, turning her face up to the ceiling. “...I told Marianne that there might be consequences for venturing into the World of C while pregnant. She never did believe me.”

 

That… that wasn’t something Nunnally thought she would be hearing.

 

“What?”

 

“Oh?” C.C. asked her slyly, barely tilting her head to eye her with amusement. “Did you not know _that_ , then? You knew both your parents were Geass users, and never thought about what impact that would have on their children?”

 

She hadn’t— thought about that, no. But also, she didn’t know enough about _the World of C_ to pass judgement.

 

“Tell me, then… did you think it was normal that you always seemed to know what people were thinking? Feeling? Even before your Geass. I once contacted your brother without a voice, without a look, with nothing but sheer proximity and thoughts, before he ever made a contract with me. A normal person would not have heard me, but he did. And I’m willing to say that you would have as well.”

 

Her mind was— blanking out. What?

 

“Time travel.” C.C. seemed to scoff to herself. “And you didn’t think that strange? A ‘ _mental ability_ ’ indeed.”

 

“I don’t—” She just didn’t know what C.C. was talking about. “I don’t understand?”

 

Her uncertainty and confusion seemed to please C.C.

 

“Just like your brother,” and if she could describe the woman as having the type of personality to coo out the words, she would have. But that description was so contradictory to what Nunnally knew of her that she couldn’t apply it. “You think you have a full grasp of the situation when you’re barely skimming the surface. Tell me— you said you lost your brother. Tell me how that felt.”

 

How could she? How could Nunnally possibly put into words the grief that struck her senseless for weeks, months, before she managed to climb out of that gaping well of despair despite continually tipping over again and again through the years?

 

How could she describe knowing, _feeling_ , the exact moment of his death as if something snapped inside her soul, like a tether to somewhere safe now lay broken and dangling inside her heart, once treasured and now useless as she screamed, wailed, louder and louder until her voice gave out on her?

 

How could she describe how everyone, even a forlorn Cornelia, reassured her that time would make it better, but it _never got better?_ How could she describe waking up each morning and already knowing, even before she was completely awake, that her brother was dead? Like the world was laughing at her; mocking her.

 

C.C.’s smile was almost sad.

 

“I knew there was something different about him the past week,” she said. “Just as there was something different with you. He didn’t even notice there was something different about himself. But now I know— that something different is _you_.”

 

_(“It’s strange, isn’t it? You and he came up with the same plan.”)_

 

“I wonder… is he fighting for revenge? To better the world? Or just for you?”

 

How could Nunnally possibly answer any of those questions? She could hardly react to the idea that maybe her endless grief was _justified_ somehow, that there really was something different and something beyond the norm about how she felt, all the time. She had always known her brother as well as, better than, she knew herself.

 

“He fights because he can’t stand around and do _nothing_.” Nunnally said, and that answer felt right. “Because he has the ability, and the possibility, when other people don’t. Because I couldn’t fight back, and entire populations of people can’t fight back.”

 

“Then are you going to fight in his place?” C.C. asked, and once again Nunnally was stunned, even as the witch nodded toward her brother’s prone form. “You know, don’t you? What he’s been doing?”

 

About Zero. Of course she did. Nunnally tracked through Zero’s history ruthlessly after her brother’s death, hoping to find hints to his thoughts and his actions.

 

Her expression was obvious, and C.C. only breathed out and reached toward the table next to the bed to pick up the neglected remote. She aimed it at the television at the corner of the room, entirely ignored by everyone the whole time but likely meant to entertain those visitors who ran out of things to say and do while looking after unresponsive friends and family members.

 

She clicked on the television, and turned to a channel showing the evening news. Nunnally only looked out of curiosity, because surely there had to be a reason why C.C. was bothering.

 

It was live footage from a helicopter a distance away from a nightmare battle, with various commentary and subtitles about Viceroy Cornelia’s work against the terrorists and her progress on taking down the Japanese Liberation Front, culminating tonight with her strategy against a certain Kyoshiro Tohdoh and his supposed “four holy swords”. The newscaster went on to wax poetic over Cornelia’s military prowess and the many crimes that this Eleven rebel accumulated through the years.

 

Although distant, the fighting was still clear on the screen, and Nunnally realized belatedly that— the Black Knights were supposed to be there, at the scene of that battle.

 

Without their leader Zero, with Lelouch on a hospital bed, the Black Knights never knew to interfere, never managed to organize themselves to fight against Cornelia in this battle.

 

“I’ve said before,” C.C. said as the news went to commercial, “that I don’t care about his little rebellion. It doesn’t matter to me, either way. The urgent news I have for you depends on how much that rebellion might matter to _you_. If you truly know the future, and you truly know your brother, than you may want to inform them as to what to do. Because I refuse to babysit the Black Knights— that was never my job.”

 

Nunnally turned wide eyes towards C.C. at the implication. “But— Zero—”

 

“What would Zero do?” C.C. asked, and this time her smile was like a predator’s. “Or is it… what would Nunnally vi Britannia do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 14 tl;dr  
> Alice: I'll always be there for you so you should remember that  
> Alice: let me be there for you  
> Alice: I'll help you change things.  
> Nunnally: Okay, I'll remember!  
> Cornelia: You need to choose a knight.  
> Nunnally: /points to Suzaku/ I want that one.  
> Alice: ....  
> Alice: wat  
> Alice: wtf
> 
> ...does this feel like CG canon level shenanigans yet? XD;;;


	15. Kriegspiel

Despite her best efforts, Nunnally was not there when her brother woke up again. 

Instead, she rushed back at the change to find it was Suzaku with him when he woke, having been dismissed by his duties by Earl Asplund for being extremely distracted and inefficient. He and Shirley had been sitting with Lelouch, talking with each other, when the heart monitor first picked up and they rang for a nurse while Shirley sent an urgent text to the Student Council group chat.

She wheeled herself to his room despite being followed closely by Euphemia, who was still in one of her disguises that hid away her signature pink hair underneath a pageboy cap pulled low on her face to shadow her features as well, and wearing a baggy sweater with capris and simple flats as opposed to her normal formal princess gowns, even though the quality of her clothes was still enough to catch attention. 

“Is he—?” She asked in as loud of a whisper as possible the moment she entered the room, although her view was blocked by a doctor’s long white coat and a nurse in green scrubs writing things down on a clipboard as she checked the machines. 

Suzaku and Shirley were standing off to the side, the both of them wide-eyed as Nunnally and Euphemia came in, until Shirley brought a finger up to her lips and shushed them with her other hand. 

“—know what day is is?” The doctor, a tall and balding man with his posture in a slouch was asking, not bothering to acknowledge the people who just entered the room. Whatever Lelouch replied, his voice too quiet for Nunnally to make out the words, seemed to appease the doctor greatly. “Alright, that’s good. Just a few more things, if you will. It’s best to keep your breaths even for now, it’s going to feel very strange for a while yet. Whatever disorientation you feel should pass, and your vision will be fine as well. You’re a very lucky young man, Mr. Lamperouge.”

_With some friends in very high places_ , the doctor didn’t say, although Nunnally could tell that was implied. That was fine, though. So long as the staff at the hospital thought they had strange connections, then they wouldn’t figure out the truth. 

The nurse clicked her pen shut, and murmured something to the doctor, who nodded and then turned with a decisive step to face the two standing nervously in the corner, “Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t stay awake for long. He’ll be disoriented for a while yet, so don’t expect too much conversation. We’ll be in and out to check on his progress and run a few tests to ensure there’s been no lasting damage.”

With that, the two medical professionals left the room, with Euphemia scooting Nunnally’s wheelchair out of their way as they exited, and then Nunnally pushing herself over to her brother’s bedside. 

He looked pale and groggy, but with more color than two days before when Nunnally had been so sure that all her plans had fallen apart, and it would once again be her fault that Lelouch died. With the hospital gown and attached machinery, it only emphasized the jutting bones that threw him a shade on the side of unhealthily thin, and lying there fighting just to stay awake, her big brother didn’t look so very big and undefeatable after all. 

But even fighting against his own exhaustion, injuries, and whatever drugs were circulating through his system, his eyes focused on her immediately, and he smiled. 

“Nunnally,” he said, voice soft and slightly slurred, and she could have cried at the sight of those striking violet eyes. She reached for his hand, her own shaking, so very glad to see him awake, so very glad to _see him_ , even if it was through the blur of relieved tears. 

“Yes,” she confirmed, and her own voice was wobbly as well, although the sound of it only made her laugh tearfully. “It’s me.”

He hadn’t even noticed— he must have been very out of it indeed, seeing as Lelouch was usually the first one to notice something, anything, unusual. 

Instead of remarking on her open eyes as she expected him to, his gaze seemed to slide right over her as the movement over her shoulder caught his attention. Her hand tightened around his (and his skin was warmer than she expected, for a moment she worried about a fever before a glance over at Shirley quickly answered that question) for a moment as he frowned, blinking slowly. 

A moment later, that same fond smile returned, and he called out, “Euphie.”

Euphemia sobbed out a breath, and within a step she threw herself at him, so very careful even as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he let out a somewhat pained breath, eyes suddenly wide with surprise and a little more clarity as his arms raised automatically in surprise. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, the cap hiding her hair dislodging even as she tightened her hold, and Nunnally was stuck with a sharp memory of their childhood, chasing after each other in the gardens of the Aries Imperial Villa, both herself and Euphie vying for Lelouch’s attention even as he tried to sneak away from them and complain to an adult about his sisters trying to drag him into their tea parties when he was _trying_ to read. 

The gasp on the other side of the room caught Nunnally’s attention even as she heard Shirley whisper, “But that’s— Princess Euphemia!”

The words made her tense, and she turned her entire attention over to Shirley immediately, catching the older girl’s gaze even as Shirley’s eyes widened at the implications. 

“But… that’s…” Shirley stared back, and then moved her gaze to Euphie, who was still babbling to Lelouch about how worried they had been about him and how he should never, ever do anything so dangerous again. She looked faint as her eyes fell on Lelouch, and then back to Nunnally. 

The identities constructed for them at Ashford Academy had always been so very thin, dependent on the fact that everyone _knew_ Lelouch and Nunnally vi Britannia died during the invasion, but surely there were plenty of children in the empire that would be named after the lost prince and princess, especially if their ages were the same. No one would question Lelouch and Nunnally Lamperouge, because the truth was far too fantastical to comprehend. 

Lelouch spent the entire time after the invasion working to protect Nunnally from the empire, and now that he was so injured, she would have to step up and do the same— to make sure that no one, not a single person, was allowed to know. The emperor had too many children for them to be considered important. Without their mother’s influence, and with anyone who would have supported them thrown from the Imperial court and stripped of their rank, they would be— nothing. 

Bargaining chips to be sold for alliances. Or, what they had been as young children, political hostages thrown into the midst of war and then targeted with extreme prejudice for the excuse to start a massacre. 

She didn’t consider Shirley’s response, instead looking over at Suzaku, who looked rather shocked to be the target of Nunnally’s ire, before he turned toward Shirley and gently guided her to a seat before she managed to fall over from her shock. 

“Suzaku,” Shirley said as he drew her attention, voice shocked, “But you— you’re the one who brought her here, right?”

“That’s right,” Suzaku said, attempting to calm her. He said something else, but Nunnally didn’t manage to catch that as she heard her brother huff out a breath of laughter, likely to something that Euphie said, even if the sound was still pained. 

“Euphie,” Nunnally wheedled at her sister, wanting to tug her away but refusing to let go of Lelouch’s hand. “He’s still hurt.”

That made her draw back immediately with a gasped, “Oh, gosh!”

That didn’t seem to matter to Lelouch, though, who seemed to be slipping away into unconsciousness again, the brief fight for awareness ending even as he twisted his hand slightly in Nunnally’s grasp and squeezed her back in reassurance. It was probably already amazing enough that he managed to stay away through the doctor’s questions, considering how he wasn’t quite aware of his surroundings. 

“Thank goodness,” Euphemia said tearfully from where she hovered, not having yet noticed Shirley’s dilemma. She wiped at her teary eyes, smiling down at Nunnally. “See? He’s— he’s definitely going to be alright!”

It was a relief to know, but at the same time, Nunnally had to work hard to tamper down the panic in her chest at the idea of Shirley knowing who they were. It receded a little with each second that passed, the irrational panic fought back with the logic that Shirley was— she was their _friend_ and would never say anything, and the fact that it wouldn’t matter if she said anything anyway, since both Euphemia and Cornelia already knew. 

They knew by Nunnally’s own decision. 

“I—” she had to swallow down hard on the remnants of her panic, a hand grasping at her chest to calm her wildly beating heart. “Of course. I… Euphie, your hair.”

That seemed to alert the older girl of her dilemma, and her eyes widened a bit before she reached to adjust the cap on her head, tucking in the strands of distinctive pink hair and laughing nervously as she once again pulled it low over her brow. It was only here that she seemed to really notice the presence of Suzaku and Shirley in the room, and hunched into herself as she realized that Shirley seemed to be staring at her disbelievingly. 

“Ah…” she said softly, and looked down at Nunnally in apology, “...I guess I caused trouble.”

“It’s fine,” Suzaku cut in from where he finished explaining things to Shirley, nudging at the girl gently to urge her over to the princess. “She won’t say anything, right?”

His tone was gentle, but Shirley shook her head vehemently anyway, eyes like saucers as she kept darting glances between Euphemia, Lelouch, and Nunnally. 

“N-no,” she stuttered out with a shaky curtsy that looked a little ridiculous in their short skirt of the Ashford high school uniform., “Of course not, Your Highness.”

“Oh, no!” Euphie protested, waving her formalness off even as she stepped around the bed to help Shirley up from the awkward curtsy. Shirley looked flabbergasted to have a princess of the empire helping her up, and Nunnally had to wonder if she looked so shocked at Lake Kawaguchi, but it was unlikely. “There’s no need for that! I’m not here as— You can call me Euphie, okay? You’re one of Lelouch and Nunnally’s friends, right?”

“I’m—” Shirley was speechless for a good few seconds. “We’re in the student council together, yes. I mean! They’re very good friends of mine— well, on my part, I treasure them a lot. I don’t mean to say that it’s—” 

“You’re the one who went with Lelouch to help save Nunnally,” Euphie identified, now that she had a few seconds to process everything. She smile sweetly. “I’m glad they have you as a friend. That was a very brave thing you did, Miss Fenette.”

If nothing else, Euphemia knowing her name made Shirley flush deeply, emphasized more as Euphie took her hands within her own with a smile. 

It was almost unfair, Nunnally thought, although she couldn’t help the fond smile watching Euphie and Shirley interact, how her siblings all seemed to have this magnetic quality to them. How all of them oozed charisma while she remained awkward and tense. Watching Euphie now, her smile bright and thankful, made her realize that she would have to work harder at her own— everything. 

“Thank you,” Euphie told her seriously, even through the smile, and suddenly her eyes were damp again, “Thank you for saving them.”

That, if nothing else, broke Shirley out of the daze that came with the close proximity of a member of the royal family. “You don’t have to thank me for that. I’m glad I was there. Even if I can’t remember much of it, I’m so glad they’re okay now.”

Suzaku made his way over to Nunnally to give the two girls a little more space and a chance to speak with each other, and she looked up at him, unsure of what she should feel. But Suzaku wasn’t looking at her, his gaze instead fixed toward Shirley and Euphie, expression fond. 

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry,” he said quietly, and only then turned to look at Nunnally, “I think the two of them will be okay. Just like Lelouch is going to be okay.”

It took her a long moment to nod. 

“Yes,” Nunnally said, and wondered if she was confirming or trying to convince herself, “you’re right, of course.”

— 

She must have sent off at least twelve different texts to Alice, although they were all left unread and Nunnally wasn’t sure she had it in herself to count. _Please call me,_ she wrote in one, and _we need to talk_ in another. She didn’t want to divulge anything through the phone, much preferring the idea of explaining face to face— a little because she didn’t want her words to be recorded and then found by someone else even by accident, and mostly because Alice deserved an explanation up front (even if she wasn’t sure what could even explain). 

It would be the third day of her stay at the hospital, only made bearable thanks to Sayoko’s constant efforts to bring her items of comfort and the presence of everyone else. Right now Sayoko was far away, and likely wouldn’t be back anytime soon. 

It felt like she was asking too much of the woman, but Nunnally was desperate when C.C. revealed that the Black Knights would be quick to fall apart without Lelouch’s presence there to guide them. She studied Zero’s actions and words for _years_ , desperate to find traces of her brother in the masked hero, and had been drilled in the events of this time period enough to know what was happening and should happen. 

She needed things to change, yes, but she wanted to control the change herself, rather than have everything derail because of Mao. As such, she gave implicit instructions for Sayoko, and C.C. provided Zero’s outfit, and the two of them were off, attempting to move things back into place. They didn’t yet have an appropriate voice modifier (Sayoko just managed to get back with the required contacts just that morning), so C.C. was meant to relay Zero’s wishes to the Black Knights, and should they ask, then their leader would… be there, but busy.

It was so ironic, Nunnally thought, that she contacted Cornelia for help… but now was actively fighting against her sister as well in her own way. 

How did everything become this complicated? 

Everyone else cleared out by lunchtime, and Nunnally nearly fell asleep at her brother’s bedside before she decided that she needed— a distraction. Air. Anything, really, other than the oppressive weight of her thoughts and discomforts. Despite having gotten past her fear of hospitals, the place did not make her feel at ease, and being here for several days only expounded on that feeling. 

She left Lelouch’s bedside for a moment to wheel herself over to the window, and then struggled a bit at getting the thick metal and glass to open just the slightest bit to let in the breeze, basking for a moment in the warmth of sunlight as she did. 

The sun was finally shining bright again, and Nunnally gazed out to the sky a moment before her attention turned downward as she saw a familiar head of red-orange hair. 

Shirley, Nunnally thought with surprise. She thought the older girl left a good half hour ago, but it seemed she was still on the hospital grounds, talking to— 

Nunnally pushed herself closer to the window in alarm, pressing a hand against the glass. 

What was Villetta Ohgi doing here?

Shirley looked distressed, shaking her head until her hair was flying about her, her posture tense and ready to flee, one hand grasped tightly to the strap of her school bag slung over her shoulder. 

In contract, the older woman looked calm and collected, too sharp for Nunnally to ignore. 

She shoved at the window, glad for the first time that the view led to the back lawn where patients and those visiting them were enjoying the weather. The window gave little by little, until it was just enough for Nunnally to lean precariously over the couch to stick her head out just far enough to be seen. 

She took a deep breath, and then hoped that she wasn’t too far away before shouting down, “Shirley!”

It almost looked like the girl didn’t hear her at first, but Shirley looked up a few seconds later, and Nunnally waved at her in false cheer. 

“I think you left your schoolwork here!” She yelled down, feeling overly conscious of herself as several other people also looked up in her direction. “You know, the project you said was due tomorrow?”

Shirley startled, and then nodded frantically, cupping her face to shout out that she would be right up to get it, before turning to Villetta and giving a hesitant half bow of acknowledgement before racing back into the hospital. 

Before Nunnally pulled herself back fully in her wheelchair, she could see Villetta’s cool and calculating gaze stare up at her, catching her eyes for just a moment before her gaze narrowed. 

Shirley was there within a minute, but didn’t question Nunnally about her supposed missing homework, instead closing the door behind herself and leaning on it carefully. 

“Are you okay?” Nunnally asked quietly from Lelouch’s bedside, and watched as Shirley paused and then shook her head. “...Who was that?”

It wouldn’t do to already _know_ , and she hadn’t ever imagined that Shirley would ever run into her. Prime Minister Ohgi tended to keep his wife and child away from the political scene whenever possible, so Nunnally only managed to meet the woman a scant handful of times, always for official social functions, and never closely enough to speak with her in person for more than the cursory introductions and polite small talk. 

She couldn’t recall the woman having a gaze as cutting as that, though. 

“I don’t know,” Shirley told her, and her voice was tremulous. “She was— just a stranger, I think. She must have gotten the wrong person.”

Nunnally doubted that, but didn’t say it.

“You should stay a little longer,” she urged instead, not trusting the idea of Villetta and Shirley meeting. What exactly did the woman do before she married the Prime Minister, again? She felt like she should know this, like Sayoko coached her on this before, and she would have had it written down in the copious amount of notes the first night, but at the moment, she was simply drawing a blank. Most of the information felt like it faded from her mind after it was written down, although that gist of it always stayed in her head. 

“Thanks, Nunna,” Shirley said, but then sighed, “but I shouldn’t stay too long. I wanted to get back for swim practice…”

Nunnally attempted a teasing smile. “Skipping class, but not clubs, I see.”

That made Shirley smile back. “I can make up my classwork, but I’d have a harder time with practice. And it’s— something to take my mind off things.”

Of course. With everything that’s happened recently, from her father’s death to being unwittingly caught up in Mao’s schemes… Nunnally’s smile faded a bit. “...Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have made light of it.”

“No, no,” Shirley denied, even as she readjusted the strap of her bag. “I’m… glad. I’d rather— it’s better than the silence, you know? Everyone in class is so quiet around me now, like they don’t want to say something wrong, and it’s horrible. I’d much rather they just laugh and go on with their day. I don’t want them to feel awful for me just because I feel awful. I’d rather— see people happy.”

It didn’t make Nunnally feel any better, although she did attempt an encouraging look instead. “...You’re really strong, Shirley.” And if she stayed any longer, then the quiet between them might just dissolve into the awkward silence that Shirley dreaded. “....Maybe that lady’s gone now.”

“Yeah.” Shirley gave her a smile, not as strained as before. “Thanks for that save earlier, Nunna. Make sure to call me if anything happens, alright?”

“Sure,” Nunnally agreed, and then watched as Shirley slipped past the door as quietly as she came. She only managed to contain her sigh until she was sure the older girl was gone, and pulled back to slouch against the back of her wheelchair, before wheeling herself to the door after patting her brother’s hand reassuringly. She just needed some air, and didn’t feel like prying at the window again. This place was so crowded not three days ago, but so empty now, and she couldn’t stand to be left with the thoughts in her head. 

Her phone felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket, reminding her at all times that she still needed to talk to Suzaku… and explain herself to Alice. But twelve different unread texts only meant that Alice was either really busy and away from her phone, or willfully ignoring her. 

Neither of those options sounded like the other girl, but then again…

She didn’t want to leave her brother by himself, and opened the door to see whether there was anyone she knew guarding the halls outside. Despite Cornelia’s promises, she still tended to leave a few of her Glaston Knights with them, overprotective sister that she was. 

It was too easy to spot the man holding up a newspaper high enough that his face couldn’t be seen, both feet planted firmly on the ground and with a posture so straight it was a wonder his back wasn’t broken. The casual jeans and sneakers and glimpses of faded sweatshirt from behind the newspaper didn’t hide his presence as much as he might have thought. 

Just who taught the Glaston Knights to blend in, anyway? They certainly wouldn’t be able to pull off any sort of spy or espionage missions. But then again… Cornelia had always been the type to take the direct route— honest and blunt. This might be the first time any of her knights tried to blend in with the common riffraff, seeing as she tended to take them from noble families as well. 

Sitting across from him was a young woman who looked preoccupied on her phone, in a business cut skirt and blouse, with flats and short dark hair that fell around her sunglasses in a manner that made Nunnally sigh. 

...They were all so obvious. 

She glanced down the hallway just in time to notice pale hair in a high ponytail disappear around a corner, and Nunnally narrowed her eyes, recalling that specific color from just minutes ago when she looked down from the window. It could be a coincidence, but… 

Maybe Cornelia really was right in posting her knights at the hospital. 

It took mere moments for the woman on her phone to notice her, and then get up, smiling cordially as she approached Nunnally, who stayed in the doorway to her brother’s room. 

“Is there anything you need, Miss Lamperouge?” she asked, tone just the slightest bit clipped and awkward. It was obvious she never expected to be here, perhaps outside of a battle or a Knightmare Frame, protecting whom might be just civilians to her (or at least Nunnally hoped they were just civilians to her, as the more people who might know the truth, the worse things would get when her brother fully comprehended the situation). 

“I—” She couldn’t find any other face around that she recognized, much to her disappointment. Villetta’s sudden presence unnerved her, and she didn’t want to leave her brother on her own. “No, nothing. I was just… I wasn’t sure if Shirley was still here.”

“Miss Fenette left a minute ago,” the lady confirmed. Nunnally supposed she shouldn’t be surprised that those under Cornelia’s employ would know exactly who Shirley was, and likely exactly who the rest of the student council and those who would come visit Lelouch might be. They’d have to know who to allow close enough, after all, although what unnerved her was how she never provided a list to begin with. 

It reminded her that she needed to have a talk with Cornelia about that as well, seeing as maybe once she would have easily let her siblings run her life, but right now she couldn’t afford the luxury of such trust.

“Okay,” Nunnally said, feeling small and awkward even as she retreated back into the room, “Thank you.”

As the door clicked close in front of her, she pushed down a well of frustration. Knights or not, she didn’t want to leave her brother here by himself, or at least in an empty room with faces that he wouldn’t be able to recognize when he woke up outside. 

She slipped a hand into the pocket of her skirt, touching her phone lightly as she thought about sending another text, but then decided against it. 

As she turned and tried to tear her thoughts away from Alice, from Shirley and Villetta, from Sayoko and C.C. and what they might be up to now, and about Cornelia’s plans and what she might have told her knights, Nunnally found herself startled to see her brother gazing at her tiredly. 

“Lelouch,” she said, and wheeled herself closer, “you’re awake.”

Looking a lot less bleary than the morning, which was a bonus. 

He smiled at her, even as Nunnally reached for his hand, heedful of the heart monitor attached to his finger. He seemed to be studying her, and she assumed his calm was mostly due to the medication in his system as he studied her silently. 

It was a long moment before he told her, “I thought I’d have more time.”

“Time?” She echoed, unable to help her own smile at him in response. 

“To build you a kinder world,” he elaborated, although the words were still a little drowsy. “So you could see… but I’m still… happy to see your eyes.”

Despite everything, Nunnally found herself tearing up again, but she didn’t wipe away the moisture. She just shook her head, and leaned in closer from her wheelchair, cursing her own ability to move as she wanted. “Whatever world is outside, that comes second to me. So long as you’re here, I’m happy.”

It was a sentiment she didn’t express enough, she thought. No matter how many times she tried to tell him that he was her whole world, Nunnally must not have expressed it enough to drill into Lelouch’s head, and she was going to fix that this time around. She wasn’t going to let him believe himself expendable in any way; wasn’t going to let his plans come at the risk to his life, at the price of his life. 

She couldn’t see over the blurriness of tears in her eyes, but could hear the rustle of fabric as he moved, slowly, reaching over with his other hand to place a hand on the down turn of her head, her whole body hunched over his side. 

“It’s okay,” he told her with a soft pat on her hair, so reminiscent of when they were children and she would go running to him after a scare, “I’m here.”

Lelouch didn’t stay awake for much longer, although this time around he was coherent enough to marvel over her and even ask what day it _actually_ was. Nunnally tried to hold his attention as long as possible, but within a few minutes his eyes were drooping again despite him laughing softly at her as she tried to climb into the bed with him in her attempt to wake him up further and demand his attention. 

She would never have done that the first time around, not ever, too preoccupied with being proper and unobtrusive as possible so that she wouldn’t be a burden on her brother. This time around, she didn’t care. She’d make it up to him later, later, and she would build up that debt until she _had_ to make sure he was around later so she could make sure of it. 

Nunnally managed to succeed after minutes of struggle, and she must have jarred him rather painfully several times, although Lelouch never complained, practically radiated a drowsy fondness and amusement the entire time she wiggled in attempt to get to a more comfortable position with her barely responsive legs, and finally wrapping an arm around her as she settled. 

It was reminiscent of their childhood, but also of the week previous when she first woke up back at school, back at _home_ , and refused to let him leave for a whole day. That thought was enough to stop her short for a bit, because maybe it was okay for her to crawl into her brother’s bed when they were children, or insist on keeping her with him after a bad day, but… 

“Am I clingy?” She asked aloud, voice barely a whisper. “Am I being too clingy?”

He squeezed around her shoulders just slightly in response, the huff of air on the top of her head familiar and warm. 

“Of course not.” He said, although the words were slow and lethargic. 

“Other people wouldn’t be like me,” she said, although she didn’t let go. “Even in hospitals. They’d stick to visiting hours, and they’d— I don’t know. Have other things to do? Not be—?” As overwhelmed as her, maybe. But she couldn’t say. She only knew the thoughts in her own head, and the turmoil in her own heart. Every mistake constantly felt like it might derail everything, be the end of the world, for her. 

“Other people aren’t us,” he told her, still quiet and slow and halfway asleep. “They don’t have the same past as us. They wouldn’t understand.”

She wondered how things would have been different if— if their mother survived, most likely. If they had grown up in the empire, with their hoard of half-siblings and all the goodness that could be offered. If they felt like they could rely on Cornelia, on Schneizel, on their mother, and even on their father. 

Ever since she had been seven years old, it had been her and Lelouch against the world, and maybe if things had been different and she didn’t feel like he was the tether to her sanity in a world of darkness, then maybe she would have been just another person worried about her brother but not so— overwhelmingly scared all the time. 

“I have so much to tell you,” she said, although this time he didn’t answer back. She shifted, wondering if his shoulder actually felt bonier than it had been last week. “And I don’t know how to say it. There’s so many worries on my mind, and I don’t know which path to choose. I thought I would have… answers. I thought I was so prepared. But I don’t, and I’m not, and feel like I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I keep wondering what you would do in my place, and it always feels like I can’t measure up.”

It was a long time, but Lelouch shifted a tiny bit, and said “Tell me everything.”

The relief she felt in her next breath was immeasurable, and Nunnally closed her eyes as her brother’s breaths evened out, feeling as if finally things were starting to snap into place, because she never wanted to go against her brother, and never wanted to hide anything from him, although she would if she had to— only if she had to. 

“Okay,” she said, and drifted off into a warm and dreamless sleep. 

— 

She woke to whispering above her head, and she identified the soft tones as belonging to Euphie and Cornelia easily enough after the initial tensing to voices so close to her. 

“Awake now?” Cornelia asked with bemusement, obviously having seen Nunnally move. 

“No,” Nunnally said stubbornly, keeping her eyes closed even as she heard Euphie giggle on the other side of the bed. It felt like the week before when Sayoko had been laughing over the two of them, sweet and fond, while Nunnally refused to be dragged away from her brother. 

There was the sound of an artificial mechanical click that finally roused her curiosity enough to see Euphie standing a step away, pink hair falling in a spill around her shoulders as she held up a plain white phone in a pose classic of taking pictures. 

“Just to add to your collection,” she told Nunnally sweetly, and then held up a finger as she fiddled with the white phone for a bit, “aaaand sending you the picture!”

“Group chat,” Cornelia suggested instead, which made Euphie giggle again. Cornelia looked tired, her normal uniform partially covered with a baggy blue zip up hoodie that was so large it must have reached to mid-thigh. Euphie was dressed in the same capris and sweater from two days ago, although her hair was loose without the cap and her eyes sparkling at the sight of three of her siblings together in one room. 

“Done,” Euphie confirmed, and then slipped the plain phone back into her pocket, pulling up her chair to be a little bit closer to the bed. “I’m just so glad to start a new collection of photos. Maybe with all of us later on!”

It was a sweet thought, enough to make her smile until she felt Lelouch stir awake, and then stilled entirely, remembering that she hadn’t yet told him even though she meant to, because she wanted to tell him everything, but she wanted to make sure he would be completely aware of it rather than think her words a dream. 

“Oh,” she whispered, eyes now wide as she darted her gaze to look at her sisters. “I, uh. Haven’t told him yet.”

“It’s okay!” Euphie, ever the optimist, insisted. “He knew it was me last time! He was happy to see me!”

Nunnally didn’t have the heart to remind her sister that Lelouch had likely been drugged out of his mind the last time he was awake, and that this time he would be significantly less so, and in all likeliness, significantly less pleased. 

Whatever worries she had must have shown on her face, as Cornelia also smiled fondly down at her, and said, “Whatever it is, I can handle it. You did the right thing, Nunnally. Lelouch will see that.”

That’s right, she could let Cornelia handle it. She was the big sister, the eldest of them by far, and she had much more experience with handling siblings, older and younger alike, so she’d be able to handle whatever indignation or aggression Lelouch threw in her direction, whatever cold shoulder or disappointment that she feared her brother’s reaction to be. 

“...No,” Nunnally said, maybe because it shouldn’t be Cornelia who dealt with her mistakes, or maybe because she wanted to hoard even this to herself. “No, I can do it. I was the one who— he should hear this from me. Can I— get a minute? Just a minute?”

Her sisters glanced at each other, before Cornelia nodded and stood up, expression still fond. 

“Of course,” she said. “Come along, Euphie.”

As the door closed behind them, Nunnally already knew that Lelouch was awake, aware for the last part of that conversation, and she tightened her arms around his ribs, feeling reluctant to face him with the truth, that she went behind his back to contact them when for years he worked so hard on hiding her away from the royal family because they would be used, they would be thrown away, they would be separated and isolated and killed in mysterious ways and the other would never be the wiser. 

It used to fuel nightmares of hers, and Nunnally remembered how she used to cry when she woke from those dreams, because her world was dark, was pitch black, and she couldn’t move her legs, and she didn’t know where her brother was until he and Sayoko would come running. 

She was so, so scared that he’d be disappointed in her and her choices. 

“Did you hear?” She whispered, holding on tight. 

Lelouch breathed out heavily, giving up the pretense of sleep. 

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I heard.”

“...Are you disappointed in me?”

It was probably strange to other people, she knew, the fact that she and Lelouch had never fought before. Siblings fight all the time, was the gist from the stories she heard from classmates, but she’d never so much as ever raised her voice to her brother or had him to it to her as well. A small part of it might have been to do with their upbringing as children, and the ability to hide away from each other if they were mad at each other with how vast the Aries Imperial Villa was. 

But she couldn’t remember ever being mad at him, or him ever being mad at her in return, not until after his supposed betrayal and death. For years, she wondered if they were missing something, or broken in some way, because normal siblings disagreed and fought, but for as long as she could remember, her willful and stubborn brother always backed down if she attempted to start an argument, more than willing to just let her win. 

And she was always willing to— not start that argument, until the two of them might have been tiptoeing around each other and not even know it. 

It meant she was unused to his ire, and his disappointment, and the mere thought of it made her cringe.

“No,” he finally told her with a sigh. “You had a good reason, right?”

For a moment, she was so relieved— but then, suddenly and strangely, angry. He must be angry at her, he _must_! She’d ruined all his careful plans, all the things he built up in years, and all those times she used to cry to him as a child and he’d have to reassure her that they’d never go back. 

She was the one who reached out to contact Cornelia, to pull Euphemia into this problem. She was the one who exposed the two of them, and now there was a high chance that the empire would know that they weren’t as dead as they pretended to be after all. She was putting them in danger, ruining everything; how could he possibly say that he wasn’t angry at her? 

What would it take?

“Why did you do it?” He asked, strangely calm, and her thoughts faltered and sputtered to a stop in that moment. 

“I—” Nunnally wanted to explain, but found herself lacking the right words. She didn’t understand how Lelouch was taking this so calmly, was so still, when by all means he should be angry, should have been furious with her. In that moment, all her bravado and fluster left her, and she slumped down. “...I felt like something bad was going to happen. Like it already happened.”

She didn’t know how to tell him about what she experienced and what she knew. She wanted to tell him, _had_ to tell him, but at the same time didn’t want to talk about it at all. She didn’t want that future, catered to her at the cost of all others. She just wanted him to— 

She just wanted her big brother there. 

“Cornelia flew in all the doctors when you got shot,” Nunnally deflected instead, just willing him to understand. “I don’t know what would have happened if it wasn’t for her. She was— she’s been so worried. About you. About both of us. Lelouch, she loves us.”

An easy thing to say, knowing what she did, but one look at her brother and she knew that he wasn’t convinced. That he still believed the royal family were up to darker schemes behind their back, and that none of them could be trusted. 

“She’s our sister,” Nunnally insisted, fingers curled around his wrist. “She didn’t— remember how she used to look after us? When mother was in her meetings, or called away? And— and how Euphie would play with us, in the gardens, even on the days when it was raining?”

“Nunnally, don’t.”

“She’s been looking for us! This entire time, she’s been looking for us, and she’s not going to tell the rest of the family if that’s what we want, she’s just scared we’ll disappear again, and it wasn’t fair to her when she had to mourn for us, when she thought we were dead this whole time—” 

“Not fair?” And here, Lelouch finally sounded incredulous. “Not fair to her? She just— she just stood there! When _that man_ threw us away. When mother _died._ She _stood there_ , just like everyone else, and she didn’t try to help either of us!”

“She… she had to,” Nunnally tried to excuse. “She had Euphie to take care of, she had to… if she said something, then father would have punished her too, so she had to wait or else she wouldn’t be allowed to look for us…”

“Some things,” Lelouch interrupted her, tone harder than she could ever remember, and sounding so much older and wiser than his seventeen years, “you do because it’s the right thing to do. You don’t wait for a better opportunity. You don’t stay silent just because it will bring you trouble later. When you love someone, you do what you have to no matter what life throws at you. You can’t just look away when bad things happen, and then later on decide you would have helped if only the consequences were all good ones.”

He seemed to run out of steam after that last proclamation, easing into the bed as he breathed in and then out carefully with a pained wince. Nunnally, on the other hand, felt stunned to stillness. 

This, she realized numbly, this was the statement from the person— the child— who defied an emperor for the sake of his blind and crippled little sister. This was the voice of Zero speaking through her brother, and the morals she envied so much. This was the man who dragged a world into an era of peace because he commanded it and refused to accept any other outcome. The brother who took a bullet to the chest to protect her from a madman. 

This was Lelouch, underneath all the calm and the placid smiles, and he never regretted choosing her over the empire, and her doubts were a disservice. 

Several careful breaths later, Lelouch continued, tone softer, and much more familiar, “Of course she was looking after Euphie. I get it. But Euphie wasn’t the one in danger— you were. I knew it, even back then, so she has no excuse. She made her choice, and I made mine. I dealt with that a long time ago.”

_(“Cornelia and I mourned his death eight years before he actually died.”)_

The sense of deja vu made her shudder. Remembering that, Nunnally realized that Schneizel would never have approved of Lelouch’s statement. Best to bide your time, she knew he would say, and move only at the most opportune of moments, when you know for sure that victory was assured. Schneizel played a long game, played to win, yet Lelouch managed to pull one over him by taking risks rather than waiting for the right moment.

This, Nunnally realized, was why Lelouch had been proud of her atop the Damocles despite them being on the opposite sides of the battlefield.. 

“Ahh,” Lelouch murmured, and raised a hand to rub at the area between his eyes tiredly. “I shouldn’t have— I must be more out of it than I thought.”

“I get it,” she blurted out, clinging onto his arm. “I get it, I do.” Of course she did. If Lelouch hadn’t made the— emotional _mistake_ , Schneizel would have scolded, of standing up for her in front of the emperor, then it was likely that she wouldn’t be alive right now. Very likely. Even if she were accepted by the court, as unlikely as that was, there would likely have been another assassination, and she wouldn’t have made it out a second time. She owed her brother so much, too much, and sometimes it felt like she would never be able to repay him for everything he gave up. 

No one else stood up for her, not even Cornelia and Euphemia, but… 

“...but I think she deserves a second chance,” Nunnally said, almost scared to reveal that thought. 

It was Lelouch’s steadfast morals and his refusal to back down that enabled her to— recover. She would always admire him for that, always love him for it, but it didn’t meant that she had to agree entirely, no matter how scared that thought made her. 

“Everyone makes mistakes,” Nunnally said, and it felt like nothing but lines off some self-help book, hollow and meaningless, but she swallowed her doubts and continued anyway, “and not everyone can be perfect. She— she made a mistake. A series of them, maybe, back then. And maybe… maybe I made a mistake, contacting her again. But I think she deserves a second chance, and she loves us, I know she does. She was only—” 

Cornelia had only been twenty years old when the assassination happened, as old as Nunnally was mentally, and she didn’t feel that old at all, and she couldn’t get those words past her throat because it meant revealing more than she could bear to say right now. 

She looked at her brother now, her big brother who always took care of her, and he was so young. So much younger, and still so angry despite everything. 

Nunnally forced down those thoughts. She wasn’t that person anymore. This was a second chance, and she couldn’t waste it comparing what used to be. This time around, she would change everything. She had to. 

“You didn’t make a mistake,” Lelouch told her, as forgiving of her as always. “You did what you thought was right. You…” he huffed out a breath, clearly torn between his own grudges and her insistence on pulling Cornelia back into their lives. “It’s— fine. I just have to adjust.”

She gave a rueful smile. “To Cornelia?”

To being bossed around by an older sister again, in all likelihood, which was something even Nunnally was struggling with, her irritation with the woman charging in and demanding changes in her life rising up again at the reminder. 

He hummed in agreement. “...To you making these big decisions yourself, I guess.”

“Is that a—?” Bad thing, she couldn’t finish.

He shook his head, slow, and mustered up a smile. “I’m proud of you.”

It was blunt, and Nunnally clutched onto him harder, remembering another conversation in another timeline. 

“I love you,” she blurted, because she didn’t say it the other time. Hadn’t been able to. “And I’m always going to need you, because you’re my brother, and you’re— you’re my favorite person in the world.”

Lelouch gave a slow blink, looking bewildered by the sudden statement. “I love you, too, Nunnally. What… brought this on?”

“Everything.” It was true. They were in a _hospital_. “I don’t say it enough, I think. And I don’t…” she struggled with the words, pressing her forehead against his shoulder. “I don’t want you hurt again because of me.”

His free hand pressed against her hair again and said, “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head, ready to say more before she heard the door open again. Oh. That’s right, Cornelia and Euphemia had both been waiting outside for them, and apparently their minute was up. It must have been longer than a minute, so their sisters gave them more time to compose themselves. 

She’d have to continue the conversation after they left. 

Nunnally had yet to lift her eyes when she heard Cornelia ask with amusement, “Do you need help getting her down?”

“No,” Lelouch said, still patting at her hair like when they were children, “she’s fine where she is.”

Nunnally could feel Cornelia’s fondness even before she saw the warm expression. 

“You spoil her,” she said, a smile in her voice, “why am I not surprised? I suppose some things never change.”

Lelouch didn’t say anything in return, and Nunnally finally raised her head to face her sisters. Cornelia looked obscenely fond gazing down at them, and Euphie stood right next to her, hands twisted together in a very obvious effort to keep herself occupied even as her wide-eyed gaze stayed on them, something wistful and yearning in her eyes. 

“Hello, Cornelia,” Lelouch finally said, and there was no apprehension in his overly formal tone, but there was no real warmth there either. It wasn’t hard to tell he was still wary of her presence, but Cornelia didn’t look like she minded too much. “Hello, Euphemia.”

While Cornelia didn’t seem to mind the curt and formal tone, Euphemia seemed to rocket forward the moment he acknowledged her presence, with as much glee and energy as when they were young children, latching herself onto both Lelouch and Nunnally hard enough (although Nunnally attempted to turn slightly to take most of their sister’s weight) to wrap the both of them in the span of her arms. 

Nunnally found herself buried within the strands of Euphie’s pink hair, even as her sister exclaimed tearfully, “I missed both of you so much!”

On her part, Nunnally managed to let go of her brother so that she could hug Euphie back, because if there was any of her siblings she missed back in Pendragon, it would have been Euphie. She was too young to remember everyone in the royal family, or even name all the half-siblings in the capitol, but Euphie and Cornelia were on the forefront of her mind. Clovis, who appeared from time to time to paint the gardens of Aries Villa, of Empress Marianne, and sometimes of her children as well. Schneizel, a tiny bit, when he came to check up on them like the dutiful brother he was, usually leaving a sulking Lelouch in his wake. 

There were other siblings too, ones whom she didn’t have such bright memories of, mostly just taunts and snideful remarks about Lelouch and Nunnally and their tainted blood, although those people were usually silenced quickly enough by Marianne herself. Not that Nunnally remembered much of it— it was usually Lelouch who told the stories of their mother, fearless, who would charge into such gossip circles with a smile and saber in hand, sometimes fully on horseback and always ready to fight. 

Euphie, though, had always been Nunnally’s favorite sister, a little because they were so close in age, and mostly due to their shared upbringing and her kindness and patience, even as a young child, always willing to indulge in Nunnally’s whims and demands with endless composure and poise that retainers failed to drill into Nunnally herself at that age. 

Lelouch patted Euphie on the back awkwardly, stiff now in the presence of others, half-sisters or not. “I’ve… missed you, too.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Euphie was babbling, as if a continuation of that morning, or repeated because she firmly needed Lelouch to know that, and remembered how utterly disoriented he had been earlier. She might even repeat it once more after the drugs finally left his system, although Nunnally was sure that Lelouch was as clear headed as he was going to be for the next small while, still slightly disoriented by the painkillers or not. She’d been through plenty of operations to know. 

Lelouch seemed to settle and slowly relax into Euphie’s embrace, although like Nunnally he too was more watching for Cornelia’s reaction. Euphemia was a known— she was kind, always had been, and would always love and accept her siblings no matter what. Cornelia, on the other hand, was much stricter, and more of a wildcard. 

Nunnally thought she knew what her sister’s reaction would be, but she couldn’t be positive, and until then, she’d have to keep an eye out. 

Lelouch, on the other hand, didn’t seem to know at all. 

“That was a foolish thing you did, running straight to the kidnapper like that,” Cornelia scolded, although her tone was soft and she didn’t look angry despite the words. Euphie paused in her murmuring, and turned her head to glance wide-eyed at her sister, never letting go of either Lelouch or Nunnally. 

As she had with Nunnally their first meeting not a week ago, Cornelia leaned in close with a relieved exhale and laid a warm hand on Lelouch’s cheek, watching his eyes widen in surprise. 

“You should have asked for help,” she told him, and it was only there that Nunnally detected the note of despondency at the notion that her siblings could be in such danger, and wouldn’t reach out to her. That they could have died, right under her nose, and she wouldn’t have known it. 

“I didn’t—” Lelouch cut himself off, looking slightly stunned before he shook his head, “I didn’t get the time. He had explosives, set to go off. He had _Nunnally_.”

“And you went straight into his trap. He could have killed both of you.”

“Are you saying I should have— left her?” While his tone was still level and cordial, Nunnally could detect the layer of ice. She reached for his hand and squeezed, trying to reign him back, trying to tell him that she understood and that she appreciated his support and that she loved him. 

“No.” Cornelia said, tone still as soft. “Of course not. You took the time to contact Kururugi. I suppose I wish you would have come to me, as well.”

“...Like Nunnally did.”

She squeezed his hand again, to confirm his words, because she didn’t want to feel ashamed for that, not when he was now okay… maybe because she managed to contact Cornelia and Euphemia. (Or maybe he got hurt only because she contacted them in the first place.)

“...We ran into each other by accident.” Cornelia lied instead, sitting down on the bed. It took a moment for Nunnally to recall that she was the one who pleaded for Cornelia to not tell her brother about the letter. She drew her hand back, and looked a little lost, and Nunnally thought she could understand that expression, because sometimes she thought she saw that same gleam in Schneizel’s eyes as well. Sometimes she thinks she sees it in the mirror. “Don’t be mad at her for that.”

“I’m never mad at her.”

Cornelia gave a wry smile. “No, of course not. She’s never the one at fault for anything, to hear it from you. You’d let her get away with murder.”

He didn’t answer that, still wary, and Nunnally almost wished she forced their confrontation somewhere public, where Lelouch would be forced to at least put in some effort at reconciliation. But that would be a false front, and he’d be angrier for it. This way would have to be best, in a quiet hospital room with only the the four of them, outside of public eyes so that anything said and expressed here could stay between the four of them. 

Less secrets, she thought. If she could just cut down a little on the amount of secrets kept… 

Here, both Lelouch and Cornelia were too proud to make themselves too vulnerable to each other, and here, Lelouch was likely still too angry at the rest of their family to give them a chance. Nunnally wished she had a few extra minutes more with her brother to convince him, but then saw him glance toward her, and the hard glint of violet eyes softening.

“A second chance, huh.” He said quietly.

“Yes,” she answered, barely at a whisper. 

Everything, she thought, would have to be give and take. She wanted to be the one to bring them together, because Lelouch and Cornelia by themselves would never manage to reconcile, no matter what Cornelia might have wanted. But maybe with a little help, and a little push from both herself and Euphemia… Nunnally thought that maybe there was power in being a younger sibling somehow, in being able to get away with wheedling and pleading when others would have been turned away coldly. She knew that she had the power to change Lelouch’s mind even when he was at his most stubborn, and that Euphemia could talk Cornelia down from the harshest of decisions. 

She wondered if Lelouch knew he might have that very same power over Cornelia, and maybe even Schneizel, given the lost look in their eyes at times. 

“I’m not your enemy,” Cornelia was telling them, glancing between her younger siblings. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

An ironic statement, knowing the Second Princess’s fights against Zero. 

As Nunnally reached out a hand for Cornelia’s, she knew that her sister believed in what she said completely, and was hopeful that Lelouch would see the truth. Cornelia always was blunt and honest, even with the worst parts of herself. Her temper was always so terrifyingly short, and she reacted with violence more often than not, but she did genuinely love her siblings. 

She even wanted Zero’s head on a plate, Nunnally thought, because of Clovis’s murder rather than his transgressions against the empire. 

That sudden realization was intrusive, and made her look over at her brother carefully. That was one death she couldn’t change, but Nunnally remembered so little of Clovis that the news of his death hadn’t really been about _him_ for her, but rather about the dubious safety of Lelouch and herself. 

She never really asked about what happened then, but then again, she didn’t have to after Suzaku and C.C. had explained the events of the Shinjuku Massacre to her in hushed tones. Clovis had been in charge then, and murdered countless people to cover up his secrets, nearly killing Lelouch in the process just because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, accidentally helping the wrong people. 

She wondered what Lelouch was thinking now, how he must be rearranging things around in his head and just how much he might still be affected by the medication and the hospital visit. What did he think of Cornelia’s presence and what that might mean for the Black Knights?

Nunnally’s original plan had her gathering more threads and connections to herself long before he revealed to Lelouch that she contacted Cornelia and Euphemia. She wanted a solid base before them, with more people that she could count on, but events seemed to have run away from her. 

She had to re-evaluate now, just like she was sure Lelouch was doing. 

Lelouch’s hand in hers squeezed back, and Nunnally took that as a sign to answer for him, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to scrounge up something positive to say. 

“It’ll just take some time,” Nunnally told Cornelia, managing a shaky smile. She wanted to convey a sense of uncertainty in this matter, like she was attempting to convince her brother still that her decisions were valid. Never let anyone know about the big things actually bothering her, she recalled, from her brother’s own advice, but instead insert the idea that she was conflicted about— little topics.

By now, Euphie was scooting just the slightest bit away, pushing slightly so that she was almost atop the bed as well, and while Lelouch was very thin and Nunnally still quite small, it certainly wasn’t meant to fit two people, much less three. 

“This isn’t the ideal situation,” Euphie agreed, her usual cheerful tone careful now. “We wanted to give Nunnally more time to talk to you about it, but then… then this happened, and I’m just so glad you’re both okay.”

“No more risks,” Cornelia said, her tone agreeable but her words not so. She looked painfully fond when Nunnally turned her gaze on her, but there was something hard in her eyes as well. “Nunnally has asked that your existence not be revealed to anyone else.”

Lelouch looked skeptical. “...And you agree?”

“She threatened to disappear if I didn’t,” Cornelia said, one part amused and another impressed. She looked about to reach out again, but then aborted the action before it became too obvious, even as she looked away. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

“It was very impressive,” Euphemia agreed, her arms wrapped tight around Nunnally after shifting from the siblings and Nunnally very carefully moving to make sure that they didn’t disturb Lelouch more than they already had, since he was still healing. “She was so calm and confident!”

“Was she now?” Lelouch mused, turning a bemused look at his sister.

“I panicked a lot,” Nunnally told her brother plainly.

He just smiled at her, something wistful in his expression, even as he slumped a bit from the exhaustion of having stayed up so long this time.

The movement meant that Cornelia finally dared to press a hand against his cheek again, looking amazed at seeing her three younger siblings lined up in front of her. Lelouch looked up at her curiously, but didn’t seem to have the energy for more than that, much to Nunnally’s relief.

“Get some rest, little brother,” Cornelia said, tone so very fond. “We’ll talk more later, and I’m sure you’ll get all the answers you want once you’re a little more healed.”

To Euphemia and Nunnally, she said, “Come along, you two. Let’s go get some lunch, shall we? Let Lelouch rest for a little while longer. I’m sure he’ll have more energy to argue in a few more hours.”

— 

It was evening by the time Suzaku was back to check up on them, still wearing his school uniform and with his school bag slung over a shoulder.

“Chess?” Suzaku asked, glancing curiously at their setup even as Nunnally laughed quietly from behind the tall book she erected as a wall to hide her chessboard from Lelouch. Her brother also had a chessboard on his lap, a fairly small and cheap one rather than the heavy wooden board with polished stone pieces they had at home. His only had black pieces on the board. 

“We need you to referee,” Nunnally told Suzaku sweetly, even as Lelouch made a face at her. 

Suzaku gave her an amused look, but turned his attention to Lelouch to say, “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I’m bored out of my mind,” Lelouch said flatly. “And Nunnally wanted to learn…”

“It wasn’t fair before,” she agreed, “since it would be harder for me to play when I couldn’t see any of the pieces or where they would go, but now… well, it’s still not fair now, so he has to have a handicap!”

“She’s making me playing Kriegspiel,” Lelouch lamented with a sigh, although his tone was nothing but fond. “Blind chess.”

“Blind?” Here, Suzaku took a seat between the two of them, leaning toward Nunnally slightly as she showed him her chessboard behind the book. “That shouldn’t be too hard for you. I thought it meant you weren’t allowed to see the board, though?”

“Not _mental chess_ ,” Nunnally told him with hidden glee as she watched her brother sigh dramatically from the hospital bed. “He gets to see where his own pieces go, but—” 

“I don’t get to know her moves.” Lelouch finished off. “I don’t know where she is, what she’s doing… I’m playing against an invisible opponent.”

“Usually it’s played blind for both sides,” Nunnally informed Suzaku, who made a noise of understanding. “So you need a referee to say when moves interfere with each other, or there’s a capture, or something’s illegal, but since I get to know what’s going on atop the whole board, I just told him every time something happens.”

“She’s cheating.” Lelouch grumbled. 

“I am not,” Nunnally sing-songed back, and giggled. “You play all the time! Maybe I just learned it all from you?”

Behind the book, Nunnally wrote down a note asking Suzaku to help her win, and he laughed at her after reading it, and Nunnally ducked her head to hide her expression behind the large book as she brought a finger to her smile to hush him. It was only fair for the two of them to team up against her brother, handicap or not in this scenario, cheating or not. It reminded her of when they were children, teaming up to get Lelouch to agree to ridiculous requests. 

“Yeah, that’s right,” Suzaku said with amusement, “if she’s cheating, she learned it from you.”

Lelouch threw a black pawn at him, and Suzaku just laughed as he caught it easily. 

Nunnally had to hide her laughter behind her hands, head light with happiness at the casual moment of silliness. Despite being in the hospital, it was everything she ever wanted, and she wanted this forever. 

“It sounds like _tsuitate shogi_ ,” Suzaku commented as he examined Nunnally’s chess pieces. “Although I’ve never seen anyone play it before.”

Lelouch looked interested. “That sounds intriguing.”

“Oh, no,” Suzaku said with a laugh. “I’m not bringing up two shogi boards just to watch you trounce me in the game. I know when I’m beat.”

“I haven’t even played yet!”

“And I just took your rook,” Nunnally called out from behind the book. 

Lelouch sighed and tipped over his remaining rook on the board, and gave Suzaku a long suffering look, “....Cheating, I’m telling you.”

The game went on for another half hour before Lelouch managed to confirm the cheating, and Nunnally pleaded innocence and ignorance when it came to chess rules, which neither Suzaku or Lelouch believed, but they seemed to take her word for it anyway with fondness. 

“Oh right,” Suzaku brought up after they cleared away the chess sets, and he reached into the school bag he brought with him, “Miss President wanted me to bring some things for you to sign.”

“If it’s about the budget for the crossdressing festival she wants to host, she’s on her own,” Lelouch told him flatly. “I’m in the hospital, even she can’t make me participate.”

Suzaku only grinned, “She rescheduled it for your release date.”

“Oh would you look at that,” Lelouch said, sinking into his bed, “I don’t think I’m getting better any time soon…”

“I think it’ll be exciting!” Nunnally pipped in, clapping her hands together. She remembered it from the first time around, but hadn’t _seen_ it, and she wanted to actually see it this time. “I think you’d be very beautiful!”

“Don’t back her evil schemes, Nunnally,” Lelouch pleaded, sinking even further down in his bed even as Suzaku chuckled with a folder full of paper in his hands. He glared at the other boy, and asked pointedly, “Why aren’t you more upset about this? The entire student council is always required to participate in all of Milly’s diabolical ideas, you know.”

“I think it’d be interesting,” the Japanese boy admitted sheepishly. “Her ideas have worked out so far, right? I liked the cat festival.”

“You weren’t the one tied up and forced to participate!”

“Maybe if you stopped trying to run away…”

“I think,” Nunnally said, hiding a smile behind her hand, “if Lelouch ever actually agreed to Milly’s plans, she might call an exorcist.”

“Not true,” her brother protested, “I would agree to reasonable, sensible plans. Just you wait, Suzaku, there’s another festival lined up already, and this one’s the ‘annual tradition’ to use an actual Knightmare Frame to try and make a ridiculous amount of food.”

_Pizza_ , Nunnally recalled, and had to use both hands to hide her grin. 

“Wait, Ashford Academy has a Knightmare?” Suzaku looked surprised, glancing between both Lelouch and Nunnally. “...Or do they borrow one from the military?”

“The Ganymede,” Nunnally confirmed when it appeared that Lelouch wasn’t going to say any more on the subject, “it’s the very first one. The Ashford family is one of the main reasons we have functional KMFs now, because they tested from developmental stage. Ganymede was the first real proof of concept— piloted by our mother.”

The thought of Marianne the Flash strained Nunnally’s smile, and made Lelouch turn away, somber. Suzaku, though, seemed to find that information fascinating. 

“It’s outdated,” Lelouch dismissed. “Tethered and everything. It would never work in a real battle anymore, which is why they’re allowed to keep it. But Milly likes bringing it out every year to make sure it still works, and she makes a huge festival out of it. It’s a miracle we even have a budget with the way she throws events and parties.”

“It seems fun, though,” Suzaku mused, “like a real school experience.”

“You’ll get sick of it soon enough,” Lelouch said, but this time with a smile. “But more to the point— I’m still not signing Milly’s ridiculous forms. I’m not her dress-up doll!”

Nunnally giggled, but didn’t add to that. She and Euphemia were quite guilty of the same exasperation from her brother back when they were children— Milly was just the most successful out of all of them at manhandling Lelouch around. 

“Right, right,” Suzaku appeased, smiling as he looked through his schoolbag again, “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’ll just leave the forms with you, then, and tell her I did my job. Also— Nunnally, there were a few things Sayoko brought for you as well.”

Nunnally accepted the sheafs of paper with a smiled ‘thank you’, and felt along the pages. 

“Homework?” Lelouch asked as she ran her fingers along the pages of braille. 

She hummed a non-confirming noise in response, “...It’s a surprise.”

“It’s like I woke up to a whole other world,” her brother teased her, “all these surprises. Are you sure I was only out for three days? Not years?”

The question was a little too on the nose for her, but luckily Suzaku was the one who laughed it off, “Don’t complain! They’re all good surprises. You should be praising her for it. Besides, it’s not as if you’re not keeping a few surprises of your own, right?”

He didn’t seem to notice as Lelouch’s smile froze a moment, but Nunnally did. 

Secrets, Nunnally thought as her expression fell a little alongside that revelation. They were all keeping secrets from each other. It was only a little more than a week, but she needed to work hard at making sure— she made a promise to Suzaku in the future, after all, that they would stop— lying to each other, trying to protect each other by keeping secrets. 

But she didn’t know how to bring it all up, the secrets left in the dark. Lelouch certainly wouldn’t react well to the reveal that Suzaku was the pilot of Lancelot, who had been ruining all of Zero’s plans from the very beginning. And Suzaku… he might react even more poorly to the revelation that Lelouch was actually the mastermind behind the persona of Zero, involved in so much bloodshed and ruin. 

How would they react, she thought, to the fact that she knew what they were both keeping secrets, as well? 

Watching the two of them now, laughing, bickering about school and participation in festivals and who missed more classes as Suzaku beamed at the two of them and Lelouch rolled his eyes before refusing yet another inane idea, and Nunnally could understand why they kept their secrets. 

She didn’t want to ruin this. She wanted to keep everything light and happy forever, if she could help it, as if the world outside wasn’t dark and ready to devour them all whole. As if the empire wasn’t waiting, hunting, for the moment when any of them might slip and lose their balance. 

Just three days ago, Mao disrupted all their plans. Three days ago, Shirley attended her father’s funeral because the war between Cornelia and Zero swallowed up handfuls of civilians along the way. Not a week ago, Lelouch had thrown himself in the middle of battle and guided the Black Knights to a stalemate against a force that should have overwhelmed them. Not a week ago, Suzaku tried to kill Zero, not knowing who was underneath the mask. 

Nunnally’s smile dropped entirely. 

She wanted to keep the happy bubble that was their school lives intact, but waiting just a week with what she knew already resulted in disastrous consequences, and she wasn’t one to willingly blind herself now that she knew too much. 

“Hey, Suzaku?” She spoke up, interrupting the play fight as Suzaku attempted to get back the papers that Lelouch was determined to rip up in protest to him being forced to participate in— the two of them froze and turned their attention to her, and Nunnally was hit with a moment of deja vu, recalling Milly’s gossip about Shirley and Suzaku. “Can you help me get food from the cafeteria? I just realized it’s late for dinner, and Sayoko usually helps, but she’s been really busy today so I completely forgot…”

“Sure thing,” Suzaku agreed easily, snatching Milly’s papers back from Lelouch, who gave a token protest at not being able to destroy them. He held the papers high in the air, and grinned mercilessly as Lelouch glared and crossed his arms. 

“Enjoy being able to do that right now,” Lelouch groused, “I’m still taller than you.”

“What? You can’t hold that over me. Nunnally, tell your brother to behave his age if he’s going to hold that over me— oh wait, I’ve got a better one— aren’t you the shortest of your brothers at your age?”

Suzaku turned to her for mock confirmation as Lelouch squawked in protest, and despite everything, she snickered a bit, pointing to her own eyes. “I wouldn’t really know, would I?”

“And— I helped you climb higher trees,” Suzaku told Lelouch with a grin, and it made her laugh as he turned to her to lament, “in fact, he couldn’t even climb trees by himself. Remember that time with the bird—” 

“We get it!” Lelouch insisted, reaching around to toss a pillow at his friend. “You’re a stupid outdoors person!”

Suzaku might have been kind enough to let the pillow hit him had it actually reached its destination, but as it was, he had to catch it before it fell to the ground in front of him, laughing the whole time at Lelouch’s disgruntled expression, just a touch too tired to really think up a snappy comeback at the moment. 

“Alright, alright,” he said, pleased by the lighthearted exchange himself, “I’ll go grab dinner in compensation, then. Any preferences?”

“Whatever’s the most palatable,” Nunnally told him cheerfully over Lelouch’s response of ‘how about _nothing_? The only thing that’s digestible in this place is the coffee’, bringing up two fingers, “two of those! Make it three, since you should eat with us, too!”

“Such high compliments for the hospital food,” Suzaku said, then grinned, “I’ll look forward to barely being able to digest it with you guys.”

“Not going back to the military for the night?” Lelouch asked, deceptively casual even as he packed away the rest of the chess set and Nunnally made her way over to his bedside again, having discorded the tall textbook and her own chess set onto the couch by the window, her papers on her lap. 

Suzaku was almost halfway out the door before he looked back and said, “Oh, I got the time off. My CO’s been reassigning my hours. I’ve got other duties now, after all.” He raised a hand to wave with a somewhat strained smile before saying, “I’m sure Nunnally can tell you all about it.”

As the door slipped closed behind the Japanese boy, Lelouch turned to his sister curiously. “Nunnally?”

It made her squirm to be under that inquisitive gaze again, but Nunnally rallied herself up to say, “Cornelia’s insisting on assigning all of us knights, and— well, I asked for Suzaku. He was right there when she asked… I panicked?”

It was true, more true than she wanted to admit, mostly because her panic hadn’t been due to Cornelia’s demands but visions of a future that she was seeking to change. She wondered if he would be irritated with her somehow, especially since he and Suzaku had always been so close, and she just— 

“That’s great, Nunnally!” To her surprise, Lelouch sounded genuinely and entirely pleased, far more than he was mere seconds ago inquiring about Suzaku’s military duties. “You did the right thing— you can’t trust a stranger with your safety, and Suzaku deserves the position of Knight of Honor.”

“...Even if he won’t be recognized for it because we’re still in hiding?”

Lelouch seemed to wave that worry off. “He wouldn’t have been either way, not if Cornelia has anything to say about it. I’m surprised she allowed it, even, but it’s a good thing. I can trust Suzaku with your safety.”

It left a bitter and unsettled feeling pooling in her stomach, that she couldn’t tell him she chose Suzaku only because she didn’t want him (her _dear friend_ ) around either Lelouch or Euphemia. It both elated and disheartened her to know that her brother was so pleased with her decision. 

“Besides,” Lelouch continued with a small smile, “he’s safer with us than the military, so we’d be protecting him in return, right?”

It made Nunnally smile in return, and she nodded with a confirmative noise. Feeling his pleased demeanor, she didn’t want to push on the fact that Cornelia wanted knights for _all_ of them, and that included Lelouch. She already said so, and when he was ready, Lelouch would point it out. 

Instead, Nunnally rummaged through the thick sheafs of paper Sayoko transfered over to her, staring blankly down at the pages of dots and lines for a while as she felt across the pages with her fingers to confirm which ones she wanted to hand over. 

It was strange, she thought vaguely, that the language she used to communicate for nearly half her life looked so foreign and illegible to her, even if she could easily read it with her fingertips. With her eyes, they were all just— incomprehensible. 

But she knew that wouldn’t be the case for Lelouch, who learned to read Braille visually early on just to help her with her homework. 

She had to do this, had to get started on this conversation somehow, and it was best to do so while he was in a good mood, while nothing terrible was looming over the horizon. She promised herself. 

“Here,” she said, handing him three of the pages, three out of the seventeen she first wrote down the night she came back with all her plans. Four for the harness that would allow her to walk, and three more for the information that Jeremiah gave her, incomprehensible to her to begin with even without the visual Braille. 

He accepted the papers, eyes scanning over the papers quickly but not in-depth, as he frowned and looked over to her for confirmation. “...What is it?”

Nunnally shrugged nervously. “My surprise.”

That seemed to prompt Lelouch to actually give more of his attention to the papers, the tiredness in his gaze pushed to the side as he studied the contents on the pages, brow slowly raising as he took in what must have looked like scientific jargon. 

How could she explain this, in the time before Suzaku returned? She was a bit of a coward, she knew, because she needed the break that Suzaku would provide to brace herself, so that she could tell her part in little bits at a time instead of all at once. She did this so that her brother wouldn’t be able to demand she tell him everything. 

“I talked to C.C. a lot recently,” Nunnally said, as Lelouch read over schematics and equations. “And I…”

What could she say? That C.C. told her about Geass? That C.C. _gave_ her Geass? Both options meant that Lelouch wouldn’t be happy, but one meant that he would be far more unhappy. She didn’t want that, but she also didn’t want to keep that truth from him. But if she did reveal the truth, how could she explain what her Geass was? How she knew about _him_?

“Nunnally,” Lelouch’s expression was carefully blank again, “did C.C. give you this?”

It was like he was _trying_ to give her a way out, to let her lie to him and keep the peace they had before. Nunnally could easily claim that as a gift from C.C., transcribed by her, and keep it at that. Lelouch wouldn’t question her about it again. 

But that wasn’t what she _wanted_. She was the one who wanted to change everything, and having already started down that path, Nunnally couldn’t allow herself to stop now, not even for her brother’s comfort. Not even for her own.

“No,” she said, sounding far more confident than she felt, even as she leaned forward, determined this time to finally spill the truth— or at least a part of it. How she was going to follow up on this conversation, she didn’t know, but that was for future her to worry about. Right now she would just worry about what she had to say in the present. Lelouch shouldn’t be forced to play _Kriegspiel_ with her, not with this. “It’s the plans for a Geass canceller.” 

At least, that’s what Jeremiah explained to her, even if Nunnally didn’t quite understand.

Lelouch froze, just as she expected, but Nunnally refused to look away this time. 

“It’s— in development now, but these are the completed schematics. No one else knows about this… or they shouldn’t, anyway. This will allow you to use your Geass more than once. Or to— negate the effects of Geass on other people.” She pursed her lips. It was such a huge risk. Not because was scared of the idea that her brother might use his Geass on her, more than once (she could _remember_ the last time he did, and she wasn’t scared, not anymore), but if he ever used the Geass canceller too close to her own Geass… what would happen? 

Would this entire timeline be erased? Would she just black out?

His knuckles were white, although his expression was still cool and blank, almost as smooth as when she last saw that apathy on the Damocles, but not quite there yet. “So she told you.”

C.C. had, but that wasn’t the C.C. in this timeline, and not before Nunnally managed to figure half of it out all on her own. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nunnally asked instead, quiet.

He seemed to study the papers for a few seconds more, and then looked up at her with a piercing violet gaze, looking for something— what it was, she didn’t know— in her expression that eventually made him turn away with such grief that it made her heart clench. She could almost feel the reasons running through his thoughts, just like her own excuses ran through her mind all the time. 

Something, a tiny nugget in her mind, told her that he might have already figured out she held a contract with C.C. as well, and turned away from the knowledge for her sake.

“I didn’t want you to know.” He said truthfully, voice strangely small.

Nunnally reached out instead, leaning across the bed to her withdrawn brother and grabbing at his hands before he could even think of pulling away. 

“I love you,” she blurted out, “and you don’t hear it enough. That hasn’t changed, and that’s not ever going to change. You’re my brother, and _I love you_ , and you’re my favorite person in the whole world. I will say it as many times as I need to in order for you to hear it. It doesn’t matter what you did, it doesn’t matter what you do, that’s not going to change. Not ever.”

She thought about C.C.’s suspicion, about their mother and father’s actions and the consequences that might have extended to the two of them. She thought about what was said about the World of C and what it would mean for them. 

She thought about that hole in her heart, ever blackened and festering, the entire time in the future, no matter how happy she was around other people. 

“I’m keeping secrets, too,” Nunnally admitted, “and I want to tell you. I have _so much_ to tell you, and I was— scared that you might hate me, once you know.”

That seemed to startle him out of his thoughts. “I would never.”

“And that’s the same for me!” Nunnally insisted, feeling her eyes warm with wetness. “However many times I have to say it to convince you, I’ll tell you: I love you. No matter how bad it gets. You said it yourself. When you love someone, you don’t look away when bad things happen. You do what you have to no matter what life throws at you. And I’m going to be here. Doing whatever it is that I have to do, to make you believe in me.”

His gaze softened from the harsh blankness. “I believe in you. Of course I believe in you.”

_Then believe in me now_ , she wanted to say. _Believe in me to handle the truth._

It was what she could have said— it was everything she worked up for, to have her brother’s attention like this, and to have the truth from him, _finally_ , after all these years of waiting, after all her work and her research and her near obsessive pursuit of a truth denied to her here at her fingertips, finally in reach after so, so long. 

And he would give her the truth, too, finally, she could tell that. C.C. had been right, and Lelouch really did have a weakness for the people he loved, and Nunnally really did have a power she could wield because she was loved, and she had the truth in front of her, finally, and— 

“I’m from the future,” she blurted out instead, the words coming out before she could even figure out what she was saying, “ _A_ future. That’s how I knew about the Geass Canceller. C.C. didn’t tell me anything about Geass, she wouldn’t do that to you. But I made a contract with her in the future, and my ability sent me back, and— I have to change what happens, I _have_ to. And— and I know so many things! It sounds ridiculous, but I can prove it to you— she made me memorize lottery numbers, _lottery numbers_ , can you believe that? Because apparently that’s the easiest way of convincing people I know the future and that I’m not crazy, and…”

She hadn’t meant to blurt that out, not any of it, but the softness of her brother’s gaze, and all those words about her holding power over those she loved seemed to bounce right back around to her. 

As much power as she held over Lelouch, to finally get him to tell her the truth, he inadvertently had the same power over her. 

She had been warned numerous times about how stupid Lelouch got when it came to the people he loved, but no one warned her about how stupid _she_ got as well. 

It took her a moment before Nunnally closed her eyes tightly, berating herself inside her head. 

_Stupid, stupid_ , what was she _doing_?

“So I can tell you right now,” she said, voice pitched and cracking and unable to force herself to face him just yet as she still had her eyes squeezed shut, “because I _know_ it… no matter what happens, I’m still going to be your little sister. And I’m still going to love you the most out of everyone in this world. This _whole_ world.”

She wanted to cry over this mistake, over the moment of weakness that ruined almost all the plans she’d been building up thus far, but she couldn’t. It felt like her tears had finally dried up, after all those times she couldn’t believe she still had tears to cry. 

“Nunnally…”

There was the shifting of paper, and then a tug on the hands she almost forgot she placed atop Lelouch’s. It wasn’t until she heard the tug of plastic and lines that shouldn’t be tugged that she opened her eyes in shock, to see her brother pulling at the lines connecting him to machines in order to give him more room to move, so that he should shift more than just sitting up. 

He shouldn’t be moving like that, she thought, no matter how well he might feel thanks to the painkillers. 

“I believe you.” He told her, no trace of the doubts or mistrust she imagined. Nunnally found herself making a protesting noise and ending up pushing herself onto the bed again, like a child seeking comfort as she let him wrap her up in one of the warmest hugs she could remember, and it didn’t matter that the room was a little too cool and stale and that there was plastic digging uncomfortably into her side and her legs, because there was something— a weight, that was off her now. 

This was the start, she thought. _Her_ start.

— 

Everything was warm and comfortable, a warm hand carding through her hair as she dozed lightly against her brother’s shoulder, relaxed now that the worst of the last few days, of the last week, even, seemed to have passed. They would talk, she knew, and things would be okay. They would be okay. 

There was a hollow and echoing sound, like someone accidentally kicking something akin to a bucket, and the hand in her hair paused a moment before it continued when Nunnally didn’t so much as stir. Noises didn’t matter to her so much, not when things were safe. 

“Sorry,” a voice whispered, and it took her a ridiculously long time to recognize Suzaku’s fond and amused tone, “I thought I— I don’t remember leaving that there. Is she asleep?”

“Just about, I think,” Lelouch responded, his voice just as quiet. “What took you so long?”

“Kind of heard you two talking and didn’t want to walk in on anything, so I figured I’d wait,” Suzaku responded, voice coming closer before there was a soft sound of metal on laminate wood. “Got dinner, but it might already be cold.”

“That’s fine,” and here her brother sighed, the movement shifting her a little and Nunnally frowned slightly, only relaxing again as his hand began carding through her hair again, “it’s not like it was edible to begin with.”

“So mean,” Suzaku said, amused, and then paused, “...were you angry with her?”

“Angry? What for?”

“For telling— Princess Cornelia. And Euphie— uh. Princess Euphemia. You worked so hard at keeping everything secret.”

“Yes, and?”

“...If I said anything, even by accident, you would never have forgiven me.”

“That’s true,” Lelouch confirmed serenely, which only made Suzaku huff in exasperation. There was a pause, and then her brother continued, “...Sometimes I forget that you’re an only child.”

“...So it’s just you playing favoritism because she’s your little sister.”

That made her brother laugh softly, the sounds reverberating pleasantly against Nunnally’s temple as she dozed lightly. “Or you could have taken it as I trusted you would know better. She’s younger than us, you know.”

“I never forgot,” Suzaku responded wryly. “But if we were fourteen, and I slipped up, you’d still be mad at me.”

Lelouch hummed in response. “...Yes. Definitely an only child.”

“What does that mean?”

The hand through her hair stopped, although it just meant her brother was resting his hand atop her head, warm and safe. 

“One of my earliest memories,” Lelouch said carefully, wistfully, “was actually getting really mad after Nunnally flushed my entire chess set down the toilet when she was barely old enough to walk, all because I wasn’t paying enough attention to her.”

“She— _what_? No way! Nunnally?”

“When I was five,” Lelouch continued, “she used to like taking her paint set and drawing flowers all over my math homework. The answer part. Our calligraphy tutor used to scold me because she would trace over my words and then write about how he was a ‘poopy-head’. With terrible grammar, although I think what outraged him the most was her handwriting.”

By now, Suzaku was laughing, quietly as to not wake her up, but still laughing. 

“She once tried to arrange a fake birthday party,” Lelouch said, amused, “on the day I managed to wheedle time out to spend with my bro— with Schneizel. She complained to mother and everything, about how I was the one abandoning her when she made plans, when she only made those plans after finding out I’d be gone for the day. And everyone knew it wasn’t her birthday.”

Suzaku sounded like he was having a hard time drawing breath. 

“Don’t tell her this,” Lelouch said, “but two months ago she bumped past my desk and managed to shove Rivalz’s and my archaeological recreation for world history off the table when she needed room for her tea set. It took us two weeks to make, because our teachers are sadistic about forcing us into childish arts and crafts projects. I just told her I dropped a thermos on the ground, and needed to clean it up.”

“You weren’t mad? I can’t imagine it. You hate arts and crafts.”

“Only the irrelevant ones, but it wasn’t like she meant to destroy the project maliciously. If anything, it was mostly my fault because I forgot to tell her it was there. I usually leave that space clear for her when she wants to take tea with me, and I— forgot. But that’s the whole point, anyway.”

“Of what?”

“Siblings will destroy your things,” Lelouch said dryly, in such a defeated manner that it made Suzaku laugh again. “Younger sisters in particular. There’s no escape from that. They’ll ruin your plans, deliberately or not, most of the time with entirely good intentions in their head. Sometimes the intentions are selfish, but that only means you can’t group it all together. You have to— encourage the good ones, even if it means everything gets ruined.”

“What, like her fake birthday party?” Suzaku laughed.

“I’m sure she thought she was rescuing me from Schneizel somehow,” her brother said fondly. “Or that I’d be happier at home. I didn’t really ask at the time. But you kind of— get used to it at some point. Eventually. Enough that I’ve learned it’s pointless to be angry about it. It will happen no matter what I feel, and how am I supposed to get her to stop trying to do well intentioned things?”

There was a gentle press to the top of her head. 

“Did you know,” Lelouch told Suzaku, “that just a little while ago Sayoko taught her how to fold paper cranes? Told her that if she folded a thousand, then she could make a wish. She could have wished for anything: her eyes, her legs, a better life, anything that she lost before…”

“What did she wish for?”

The warm hand atop her head smoothed down her hair, and Nunnally barely shifted at all in her breathing, too comfortable where she was to wake up from her half-doze.

“She wished for a kinder, gentler world. I hope she never stops trying to help,” her brother said wistfully. “I hope she never loses those good intentions. I hope no one never takes that away from her.

“I hope she gets that kinder world she wanted. I would do anything to make it happen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After three weeks of being barely able to write more of this, my roommate Sokoya (who's only watched six episodes) sat down in front of me and told me to sort everything out by talking at her. No phones, no books, no distractions, just a few notepads and pens between us until nearly five hours later (with a headache and sore throat from talking) I came up with something that would make sense to even her.  
> So I'm going to try and rewrite parts of chapter 16 (I nope'd out after 17.5k and decided this is just going to be two chapters because as much as I'm all for long chapters, is nearing 20k a week even humanly feasible before I go crazy in a month? I started thinking 7k a week, okay, I can do that) and all of chapter 17 (scrapped entirely) as fast as I can to keep up with these updates, and then it's a hiatus for April as I pull this story to Camp NaNo to see how far I can get on the sketchy plot that she helped me rearrange.


	16. Inversion des Rôles

The cockpit was— strange. Foreign. She had seen various KMF simulators, of course, toured various sites out of assumed boredom and smiled at many a veteran pilot, thanking them for their service, no matter which side they once fought for. There was only one side left, and that side was giving up on the weapons and the violence, and she wanted no hard feelings from any of the soldiers fighting on what might have once been opposite sides of the war. 

It took her a stupid amount of time to settle into the cockpit from her wheelchair, mostly because KMFs were not designed to let a paraplegic little girl inside, and half because there would be various points where she would give up in frustration, banging her fists against metal consoles until her bones ached and protested. It wasn’t even a real Knightmare, it was just some simulation cockpit she had built since the real thing had long been destroyed. 

It was far wider, far more spacious than the norm, designed in such a way that anyone with any practical knowledge of Knightmare Frames would at a glance immediately know that it was a special unit, likely a prototype. 

After she finally got herself settled into the seat and it moved back into position that was meant for piloting, Nunnally just— sat there. Stunned, maybe. Or tired, she wasn’t sure which. 

It looked nothing like the standard KMF cockpit, and she didn’t know where to start. She didn’t know how long she sat there for, in the silence, uninterrupted by nothing but the dim glow of the monitor and lights from buttons, none of which were really functional, but merely made to connect to a large computer that would approximate what would happen should she press those buttons in certain situations. 

There were— so many buttons. Whole keyboards. Other simulations she had seen, smiling as she was shown by overeager cadets and soldiers, were so simple by comparison. Joysticks. Monitors. Handful of quick-action buttons that could be accessed without having to move their hands away from the controls that allowed them to move the KMF. Great big machines of war looking like nothing more than a complicated video game to her. Good pilots had good reaction time, the simulations proved to her, good physical responses and keen instincts. With skill and a lot of experience, a good pilot could make their KMFs move in such a way that even human bodies couldn’t move, smooth and fluid thanks to a minor onboard AI that could calculate equations for everything pilots wanted from their machines, and an issue of compatibility between a pilot and machine. 

This cockpit didn’t look like it wanted the AI to take over. It looked like it was waiting, waiting for a user to come take control. A user, not a pilot. 

Nunnally waited as well. She didn’t know how long she waited, in the small and enclosed space. 

The brief crackle of noise over the speakers to warn her of an incoming message didn’t even alarm her when it came, the prelude to Earl Lloyd Asplund greeting her in his usual pitched drawl, “Your Majesty. I’ve been sent to fetch you for your party.”

She didn’t respond, ignoring him. 

To his credit, he gave her several minutes before trying again. 

“Your Majesty,” he wheedled, “your sister has sent quite a few people scouring the villa in search for you. I don’t want her to come search my precious labs herself, not with her troop of ill-mannered and handsy—” 

He seemed to yelp over the speakers for a moment before another voice appeared, the more calming tones of Major Cecile Croomy— ever smiling, ever calm even in the face of her employer’s childish tantrums and excited antics. 

“Your Majesty,” she implored, as calm as soft as if she were sweet talking a kitten, “it’s almost time for the start of your birthday party. Everyone’s very excited. It’s not every day you turn sixteen.”

Nunnally’s jaw tensed involuntarily, reminded of the various bobby pins in her hair, the acerbic smell of spray and the stiff strands falling against her face. The fabric against her skin felt rough, thick and rich and _constricting_ in a way she hated right now with every fiber of her being. 

“I’m not fit for company right now,” she murmured quietly against the dark of the cockpit, staring blankly at the darkened monitors.

“Uh— sorry, I didn’t catch that,” Cecile sounded genuinely apologetic for it. 

“I’m not fit for company right now,” Nunnally repeated, voice stronger this time, although there was a low and gravelly scrape to it from spending too long silent. “I’m not fit for company right now! _I’m not fit for company right now!_ ”

She didn’t know why she was screaming the words at the end, only that she was, even as she banged her fists against the controls on the armrests of the chair, scraping her elbow sharply against smoothed metal in the process. It would leave a mark, she knew, and she would be glad of it. 

The whole day— whole week— whole month, probably whole _year_ sucked. She didn’t want to think about being sixteen. Fifteen was harsh enough. She didn’t want material presents celebrating a day she currently dreaded. She didn’t want people smiling and congratulating her for— what? Still breathing? For managing another year of her pitiful existence like they all expected her to keel over and die at any moment, so it was such a success for her to make it so long? 

Her arms were shaking— her whole body was shaking, and she could feel her eyes watering traitorously. She wasn’t sad, though, and she didn’t want anyone to think that she was— no, Nunnally was angry. She was _furious_ , and she didn’t know where the emotion was coming from, or where it was supposed to be directed. 

“I don’t want a stupid party,” she said through gritted teeth. “It’s all for _them_ , anyway. If this day really was for me, I wouldn’t have gotten up from bed in the first place. I wouldn’t have been forced into this awful dress— had my hair yanked at and people attack me with makeup because I’m not _perfect_ enough. I don’t want to go. Le—” _Lelouch wouldn’t make me go_.

She snapped her jaw closed so hard on those words that it made an audible snap, and turned her face away furiously, not knowing what it was she wanted to avoid. 

It had been more than two months. The whole world had settled. People were getting over it. Why was this still hitting her so hard? She of all people should be used to deaths in the family. She _caused_ many of the deaths in her family. Hadn’t she cried enough? Grieved enough? Been angry _enough_?

“If you make me go,” she said instead, furious and feeling nothing of the gracious, patient girl that was expected to to be the new face of Britannia, “I swear to god I will find a gun and I will shoot Zero in his goddamn face. I _will_ knife someone, and I don’t even care who it is.”

Maybe even herself, just to escape from the idea of this awful party. 

“If this day really is about me and not using me to make a fuss for other people to enjoy, then you will leave me the hell alone. You will all just leave me the hell alone, just for this one day!”

She slumped in the chair, feeling as if her neck wouldn’t hold the weight of all the turbulent thoughts in her head anymore. Her voice was hoarse already, and she whispered, “I just want to be left alone.” 

(She didn’t. She wanted her brother. The same one she spurned, fought against, been betrayed by, and betrayed in return.)

The lights in the cockpit continued to glow, continued to tease with the hint that it might be hiding secrets within its panels, but they were secrets that wouldn’t be deciphered by anyone, because it was only ever meant for the eyes of a singular person, a person who was already gone. 

She wanted to rip those panels out with her bare hands. 

_He’s gone,_ she wanted to scream at this mockery of a Knightmare Frame, _he’s gone and he’s never coming back no matter how long you wait like an oblivious_ dog _!_

The cockpit remained silent, remained dark, despite her bitter and virulent thoughts. 

“The screen to your left. By your head.” A accented female voice drawled over the speakers. _Dr. Rakshata Chawla_. “There’s an indent— shaped like a triangle. Not a button, it’s not meant to be pushed.”

Nunnally barely managed to drag her eyes up, taking a few seconds to find what the scientist was talking about. “...What about it.”

“Brush your fingers near it, and it should mute us.” She said, both informative and somewhat amused in a manner that grated on Nunnally’s nerves. “Zero was always so dramatic. Imagine, him muting us by just flicking his fingers near his head, like brushing away an annoying insect.”

Despite herself, Nunnally snorted. 

There was a pause on the other side, although the line remained open, and she could very clearly hear Rakshata blowing a breath of smoke from her pipe in a protesting Lloyd’s face. 

“Ceiling.” She said again, as disinterested as her tone usually was. “Above your head. There are five switches in a row. Turn it on, from left to right. Then off— leftmost, rightmost, second right, middle.”

She didn’t say why, but didn’t prompt anything else, so after a minute of silence on the line, Nunnally decided to follow those directions. 

The cockpit lit up.

“Good.” Rakshata told her, no hints about asking her to go back to her party or for her to leave. No hints about what else to do or what people expected of her. “Central screen. What do you see?”

There was a floating logo, and Nunnally frowned. No words. She wasn’t sure she wanted to answer Rakshata, not with enough words for a description. 

“Doesn’t matter!” Lloyd’s voice came over the line, now much more cheerful. “The armrests, the armrests! Put your arms down and then lean your elbows back until it hits the seat!”

She… couldn’t think of a reason not to do so.

As soon as she did, the keyboards on the sides of the cockpit moved, startling her because she thought they were meant to stay there rather than unfold themselves neatly over her lap, layered like a church organ. It was confusing, and made more so to note that the keys were all unmarked, clearly meant for someone with an already familiar ease and grace in the seat. 

She must have made a noise of confusion, because Lloyd cackled on the other side. 

“Amazing, isn’t it? What a system! Easier for me to use, certainly, even if I prefer designing something more streamlined.”

“Don’t be obtuse,” Rakshata grumbled over the line at Lloyd, “the Druid System isn’t for us to use. Just because you might be able to do, doesn’t mean you’d be able to manage in a real time battle scenario.”

The monitors around Nunnally were lighting up, distracting her from the rage she felt against the system earlier, staying silent and obedient like it was made to do, holding its secrets to itself and not sharing with the rest of the world; with her. 

There were— 

Numbers cascading down one screen. Another awaiting instructions. A third displaying environmental information, another a 3D topographical map, likely of the simulated area that it was designed to test pilots on. A fifth screen flashed with symbols faster than she could read through even if she knew what they were about, and a sixth displayed information about the KMF itself, assessing critical systems and vulnerabilities. 

“What is all of this?” She asked, voice hoarse and eyes wide.

She could hear Rakshata blow out another breath of smoke on the other side of the communicator, “Isn’t this what you wanted to know? You commissioned this simulator, didn’t you? A perfect re-creation of the Shinkiro. Shall I teach you how to pilot it?”

“Unlikely!” Lloyd said cheerily, “You should start with a normal Knightmare first, Your Majesty. Only a handful of people in the world have managed to decipher the Druid System, and less than that have the potential to use it fast enough for battle situations. I’d count… your brothers. And Zero. And that’s it!”

Rakshata snorted over the line. “...I doubt the current Zero would be able to master the system fully.”

“Dr. Chawla!” Cecile’s scandalized tone came through clearly. 

“What?” Rakshata grumbled. “She’s sixteen— not an idiot. Any person with a ounce of intelligence knows that our current Zero isn’t the same one who started. Anyone who doesn’t is either an ignoramus or willfully blind.”

Lloyd seemed to ignore that comment entirely. “Shall we test how well you do, Your Majesty?”

She ran her fingers lightly down one of the keyboards feeling the smoothness and lack of indents between keys, startled to realize that it was cold glass under her fingertips. This wasn’t just a series of keyboards, they were all touchscreens illuminated in such stunning simplicity that her eyes had been fooled. 

It shouldn’t have surprised her, but somehow it did after having seen numerous simulators with old fashion and bulky buttons and control panels. Made to be familiar to the pilot, apparently, so that someone who learned on one model would be able to work their way around all the models. 

“No tests.” She said, wondering if it was Lloyd’s genuine response to try and distract her, or whether it was his curiosity run rampant again, intent on experimenting with whether she would measure up to the talent and brilliance of her brothers. Or perhaps he just wanted a child of Marianne the Flash under his cameras, to see how well she measured up. Had he done the same to her brother before?

Nunnally knew the basic controls for a general KMF, although probably not as well as she should have, being a child of the royal family and especially a child of Empress Marianne. She barely remembered sitting on her mother’s lap as Marianne tried to point out controls in the Ganymede, Lelouch at her side, staring just as wide-eyed as she was. 

This was a recreation of her brother’s Knightmare, she thought, hands warming the glass of the keyboard panels before her. Of course everything would be unnecessarily complicated, and— so personalized. Rakshata’s amusement at the placement of the mute button made sense suddenly, even though Nunnally’s foul mood still persisted despite the amusement crawling up her veins. 

She could just mute them, and go back to her silence, back to her thoughts and the need for a peace that was always out of her reach. It was funny, how the world was peaceful now, but not inside her head, like a yawning darkness daring her to stare into an endless abyss and fall in. 

Or, she could go back to that awful party, the one she refused to even attend, having made her escape a full hour before she was due to appear. (No, that wasn’t an option at all.)

“Tell me,” she demanded, hands pressed flat against the keyboards, unheeding of the way it lit up underneath her skin, the monitor to her side giving her confused sigils. “How this works.”

— 

Lelouch was released from the hospital less than a week of being admitted, despite the disapproval of both his doctors and his sisters. Due to his insistence, Nunnally made it to classes two days of that week, although she was sullen and a little bitter about it, with Suzaku offering to escort her to school in the mornings and then waiting for her outside of classes so that the two of them could make their way to the hospital again. 

For all that Nunnally had been so amazed about coming back to a time when she had been happiest, she wasn’t so happy to face all the gawking from teachers and fellow students when they saw that she could now _see_ them. 

It seemed everyone at school resigned themselves to being in the same classes, the same grade, the same vicinity, as blind, crippled, and entirely helpless Nunnally. What a sweet little girl, but at the same time useless and likely never to get any better— it was a mentality she didn’t exactly blame them for, thanks to the Britannian rhetoric spoon fed to all its citizens from birth. 

Any other time, and she might have enjoyed shocking them with just how much better she was going to get. But at a time with her brother still in the hospital, and still fresh from the emotional wounds that were the two of them talking for hours on end, taking breaks only when they needed the time to digest information or to cool down… (and it was such a strange concept, the idea that they could be mad at each other, that Nunnally could shout at him, and Lelouch could glare and refuse to speak with her, was so novel and new that it was both frightening and exhilarating, and somehow she _wanted_ it. It hadn’t happened yet, but she _wanted_ it badly). 

She slept at the hospital most nights, and they would stay up for hours pouring over her notes and her knowledge and her ideas, both irritated in turns at each other for one small thing or another that seemed to dissipate within minutes, knowing that they were finally— _talking_. 

To each other, tentative and new. Not just Nunnally speaking to her older brother, or Lelouch talking to his little sister. 

(She didn’t tell him about Zero Requiem. It still hurt too much. But Lelouch was nothing if not smart, and she was sure that he could already tell the possibility of things that might happen from she was willing to share.)

The day after he woke up, both Lelouch and Nunnally were interviewed by several nervous police officers regarding what happened with Mao (no he didn’t know the man’s family name nor had he never met the kidnapper before that day), although Nunnally claimed very truthfully that she had been blinded the entire time and also tied up, unable to give much detail. 

Lelouch, on the other hand, wove a story of a madman who was looking for someone not them, who seemed to think they were appropriate pawns to toy with until he could get better clues about who he was actually looking for, and who was entirely mentally unstable, but somehow a very good detective. 

Good enough to sneak all the weapons he managed to obtain from wherever he did.

“Isn’t that… a little too close to telling them about C.C.?” Nunnally whispered to him after the police left, when it was just the two of them again. 

“A little too close to the truth?” Lelouch responded, almost amused. He tapped at the side of his blankets. “No doubt the story will find its way to Cornelia, and she’ll assume I’m lying about something… it’s best to let her think I’m lying about the truth, because Mao found out about our identities.”

Nunnally only nodded then, uncertain, but trusting.

Every time at school it seemed like Alice was finally calm enough to speak with her again, she would take one glance of Suzaku waiting for her outside of their building, and she seemed to close herself off again. 

Nunnally felt like she could tear at her hair with the way school was going. With things finally resolved (or at least on the way) with one person, another person seemed to close themselves off to her, and she couldn’t understand why she felt so _hurt_ by it. 

She hadn’t come back for Alice, even if it was a bonus. She wanted to keep her best friend, yes, but none of her plans hinged on Alice’s approval, yet her nerves were shot by the idea that Alice now wouldn’t speak with her. 

Sayoko was busier than ever with notes from both Nunnally and Lelouch now, and Nunnally couldn’t figure out how to explain that to Suzaku, who was starting to question where her maid was, since he was reluctant to leave her alone each time she was dropped off back at the clubhouse. 

“I’m not staying long, anyway,” she would try to dismiss, “not until Lelouch comes back home.”

“You should sleep in a proper bed,” he’d respond, full of concern. “Lelouch is going to be fine. I’m sure he’s more worried about you overexerting yourself at this point.”

Another thing Nunnally hadn’t expected: how Suzaku took it upon himself to mother-hen her in Lelouch’s absence. 

It might have been endearing at one point, but now that she was mentally older than the both of them, there was only so much overbearing protectiveness that she could take, especially when she was attempting to work on her own plans. It was somehow easier with Lelouch, who was used to giving Nunnally her own freedom despite his protectiveness, but she and Suzaku hadn’t figured out how to set boundaries yet at this point in time, and it meant he always seemed to be there when she didn’t want him to be. 

“You know,” she tried to say casually once he was pushing her wheelchair to the hospital in lieu of Sayoko and Alice, “you don’t have to do all of this. I’m perfectly fine on my own at school, and don’t you want to have some time for yourself?”

“You were just kidnapped last week,” Suzaku said, “and you’re my friend. Besides, Lelouch would kill me if something happened to you. Not to, uh, mention what Princess Cornelia would do.”

She hadn’t even been in the room for that talk, but Euphie had still covered Nunnally’s ears anyway the moment Cornelia led Suzaku off, so Nunnally had an inkling of the pseudo-shovel talk Suzaku had probably been given when it came to Nunnally’s safety. 

Unfair, she sulked a bit, and thought about dragging in Milly’s gossip on whether Lelouch was more suited for dating Shirley or Suzaku, just to see what color Cornelia’s face would turn (and how hard Euphie would laugh), because at least then the conversation would turn away from her and where she was at all times. 

During the weekend the Black Knights launched an undercover counterattack on Cornelia’s forces, thanks to information Nunnally provided and Lelouch’s orders, devising a new plan not to force a fight between the two forces, but rather as a stealth rescue mission thanks to the Four Holy Swords petitioning Zero to help save Tohdoh and the captured leaders of the Japanese Liberation Front from execution. 

Nunnally suspected that she wouldn’t be able to use the coding algorithm Cornelia usually implemented anymore after this. That would be another advantage she would have to give up, but at least she managed to provide a method of access here, when Lelouch would need it the most. 

It was the first time she could hear everything going on through the headset, and she laced her fingers tightly in her lap as she heard the gunshots and shouts, closing her eyes as if in prayer. 

Lelouch placed a warm hand atop of hers and continued to give his orders, relayed by Sayoko as Zero, and they somehow managed to rescue not only Tohdoh, but a handful of the upper members of the JFL captured by Cornelia before the alarm was sounded and the official firefight followed. 

She was an accomplice now, Nunnally knew, hearing the deaths (minimal casualties; collateral damage), and there was no turning back.

It was a Tuesday when Lelouch finally bullied the doctors into releasing him early, and Nunnally suspected it was half to do with the fact that the staff just didn’t want to deal with him anymore, if his ever increasing agitation at the thought of being confined to the hospital was any indication. Cornelia was unhappy with the situation (she’d been unhappy ever since the weekend), but agreed to withdraw her knights since nothing seemed amiss there the past week. 

Nunnally, on the other hand, was elated. 

She spent all the time she could find to herself at the hospital the past week (which hadn’t been a lot, only a handful of hours) in the rehab room, working with the selected doctors and therapists on strengthening the muscles in her legs, and thought that with help, if she pushed it, she might be able to surprise her brother for the end of his hospital stay. 

It might have been a bit ambitious on her part, as her legs ached every day now from the physical strain she was pushing herself through, but Nunnally had— no time. This entire incident already delayed her a week, and shifted all her plans sideways. 

There were times when the two of them needed the time away from each other, barely able to process what needed to be said or what they would say in return after some shocking revelation. Hours at a time, when Nunnally would leave the room for her physical therapy and Lelouch would glare at the screen of the laptop smuggled in, an earpiece on and plotting the new direction to take the Black Knights in. Sometimes they didn’t speak, refused to speak, on the darker subjects, and Nunnally was beginning to suspect that she wasn’t the only one who wanted to preserve the false peace between them by keeping silent.

She mentioned being from the future. She mentioned knowing what was going to happen. She mentioned _changing_ things, and Lelouch just accepted all of it. In a silence uncharacteristic of him, he didn’t ask any details she wasn’t willing to provide, and Nunnally wasn’t willing to provide any details that he wasn’t going to ask for. They told each other facts, and argued (using the term lightly) mostly on logistics and morals and what was and was not acceptable.

It was a pseudo-peace and stalemate that couldn’t stand, Nunnally knew, but she also knew about the need for letting information digest before continuing. Worst comes to worst, it was always possible to blurt out _everything_ , but when there was no need for that urgency, Nunnally found that taking her time was the best option available. 

Maybe it was the years of peace and prosperity that taught her that, seeing as very little remained altogether too urgent in the world Lelouch created in the future, and politics had always been slow going. 

“I’m surprised Miss— Shinozaki isn’t here today, though,” Suzaku mused as he pushed Nunnally through the hospital doors, the motion familiar enough after the near full week. “She stayed as much as you did in the beginning.”

“I think it has something to do with security,” Nunnally brushed aside the concern casually, “things have really been changing a lot lately— are you excited about Lelouch coming home? I am! Although I do think maybe it’s too early…”

It was a quick and easy change of subject, maybe hammered a bit too heavily, but she turned to smile up brightly at Suzaku, reinforcing the idea that her thoughts were all circled around her brother at the moment. 

“It _is_ too early,” Suzaku agreed easily, not noticing, or likely just ignoring, the way he had been herded onto the topic, “but he might feel better at home. He’s certainly been terrorizing the doctors enough the last few days. Any longer and we might actually get the staff to beg us to take him away.”

It made her giggle nervously, even as she directed Suzaku to a previously unknown (to him) floor first. All he was aware of was that she was getting her checkups here as well, since Nunnally had regular doctors appointments anyway, and got most of it out the way since she was pretty much staying at the hospital with Lelouch until he was released. 

“I’m just taking a few things home,” she said with a smile even as she directed him toward the physical rehab rooms, “since I won’t be coming here daily anymore.”

A nurse who had signed her in and out the past week greeted her warmly, not questioning Suzaku’s presence at all, although she did give his uniform a curious look. He hadn’t found the time to change out of it, although Nunnally did change into something different right after classes let out, an easy feat when she lived at the clubhouse, and was wearing something more casual with a skirt that easily went down to her ankles. 

He waited for her outside the room as Nunnally spoke one last time with the doctors on duty, and they helped her into the harness even as she pulled her skirt down over the the thick blue piece, smoothing the fabric over her legs until the plastic was barely visible, testing for a moment as she transferred from the wheelchair she came in over to a more standardized hospital wheelchair, flexing her legs experimentally before nodding in satisfaction to herself. 

She wasn’t quite at the point where she wanted to be yet, seeing as her legs were sore and it still took far more effort to move than than she wanted to give (who gave half of their attention to their legs when walking? She couldn’t just focus on one thing, she needed to train herself until she could take a step without first having to think of the amount of effort needed to pull up one leg, move it forward, step down, and make sure she was balanced on the flat of her feet before she could even move the other leg), but it would be enough for now. 

She wheeled herself out of the room herself after the attendants assured her that there was someone to pick up her wheelchair already and take it back home for her, and then smiled at Suzaku, who looked a bit confused by the change. 

“Ready to go?” She asked before he could voice his question, and he stood to once again take his place behind her wheelchair to help her around. 

“What happened to your chair?” He asked, even as they made their way to the elevator again. 

“They need to make some adjustments,” she said, and then patted the handle of the rough seat she was in, a bit too large for her and slightly worn by previous occupants. “Besides, we’re going to need this one.”

She started up a light-hearted dialogue about school as they made their way up to the room Lelouch was in, actively ignoring the two knights that were lounging around the hall, still looking as conspicuous as ever but at least they were different enough to show that they weren’t the same people on duty at the hospital all the time. 

Suzaku knocked on the door and waited for a muffled response before he opened it and pushed Nunnally inside, only to find Lelouch waiting for the two of them, looking impatient and already dressed in his own clothes, a short red leather jacket over a black sleeveless turtleneck and dark washed jeans. He looked so much better in familiar clothes than he did in the hospital gown, more calm and collected and less restless than before, even though he still seemed rather agitated. 

He was answering a peeved looking doctor with short, clipped answers, the older man in question looking like he was getting the beginnings of a headache from dealing with just how uncooperative Lelouch was. 

“And there they are,” Lelouch told the man dryly, “my escort. Am I allowed to leave now, then?”

“We’re here to pick you up,” Nunnally called out cheerfully as a greeting, and then turned her attention to the doctor out of sheer politeness, “Hello, Dr. Singh.”

The doctor just grunted, and then grudgingly handed Nunnally a slip of paper, along with a bottle. 

“No more than three a day, no matter what he says,” the man said, and then pointed to the paper, “the rest of the prescription will be available down at the pharmacy, refill after two weeks, but he should be back here for a check-up before then. Where he can annoy a different doctor. It’s out of my hands now.”

“Thank you,” Nunnally told the doctor, ever polite even as the man made his excuses to leave, but not before he gave Lelouch a warning look at the edge of the room. 

“You get to leave in a wheelchair,” Dr. Singh told him, “because I don’t want to see you back here that soon. Go tear your stitches near another hospital, not this one.”

He stepped out before Lelouch could muster up a retort, but the statement seemed to make Suzaku laugh quietly before he leaned down to tell Nunnally, “See? We need to get him out of the hospital early just to save all the poor doctors.”

“I can hear you,” Lelouch declared, although his tone softened toward the two of them. He moved to stand, grimacing just a bit before Suzaku grabbed him by the elbow, just in case he fell. “I can walk, you know. I was down for less than a week.”

“A week is enough,” Nunnally scolded, “Cornelia’s already irritated enough that you’re pushing this. You should at least listen to the doctors until you leave the hospital.”

Her brother exaggerated a sigh, “...I’m not waiting for him to come back with a wheelchair just to walk out of this building.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Nunnally told him sweetly, and then grinned as she patted the arm of the wheelchair she was in. She shifted her legs a bit just to hear the very quiet whir of the gears, “You have one right here.”

She didn’t give him time to respond, pushing herself up from the wheelchair carefully, but not fast enough before both Suzaku and Lelouch dived for her in case she fell, and Nunnally felt a surge of fondness mix with the amusement of her surprise. As she stood, she held up a hand to keep them back, and looked up to see her brother’s wide eyes. 

Her legs were still a little shaky, even with the physical therapy and the harness, and she’d be breathing easier to have something to lean against later, but for right now she just wanted to show off— she worked hard to surprise him, and she wanted to show Lelouch now that she could stand on her own. 

She could see the world around her and stand all on her own without help from others. It only took her seven years, but it was long enough— overdue, even. 

“This time,” she told him brightly, and violet eyes followed her movements wonderingly. “I get to push you out!”

She almost laughed when she realized that Lelouch might have fallen himself if it hadn’t been for Suzaku’s support, but even the Japanese boy looked dazed at the unexpected development, jaw dropped slightly as he stared at her. 

Nunnally moved, steps careful and still slightly shaky, just far enough that she could grip onto the back of the wheelchair and give her something to lean on, because the framework might take the weight from her legs, but her balance was still something she needed to work on, and that didn’t come back just because she knew how to balance in her head. But it was fine, and she’d be able to last the trip out of the hospital, she knew. 

“Looks like our positions are going to be reversed today, big brother,” she told him cheerily, and found that all the work and secrets of hiding what she was doing paid off in full by the gobsmacked expression on his face.

— 

There was a car waiting for them outside the hospital, after Nunnally took her faltering steps and laughed whenever Lelouch looked back up at her wonderingly, asking question after question that she refused to answer until they at least got back home (a part of it was due to the fact that she still required too much concentration to put one foot in front of the other, the skills not working automatically in her head yet), although she didn’t move to hide the bits of blue frame that peeked from underneath her long skirt.

His wondrous mood seemed to dip at the sight of the clearly expensive car, with a suited woman in shades waiting for them, standing sleek and professional and a little too battle ready.

“Not this again,” he murmured, and Nunnally agreed with him, although Suzaku seemed relieved to see the escort. 

“Mr. Lamperouge,” the woman, a tall brunette with hair in a bob cut and a build that was a little too sturdy to be slim, greeted amiably, “Miss Lamperouge. Mr… Kururugi.”

Lelouch glared at the hesitation and exaggerated accent to Suzaku’s name, and quick dismissal of their friend. Nunnally found her own smile faltering. 

“We’ve been instructed to escort you back to school,” she continued, taking no heed of their disapproval.

“Nunnally,” Lelouch called out, deceptively sweet, “did you have any trouble on the train ride here?”

“Not one bit,” Nunnally confirmed, now also eying the two with a frown. She was leaning more on the handles of the wheelchair, her legs wanting the ride, but at the same time she hesitated on the idea of getting into a car with a stranger. 

“Guys,” Suzaku said quietly, “she’s just doing her job. C’mon. Don’t do this.”

The woman ignored him, and Nunnally’s temper flared slightly at the blatant discrimination she had been sheltered from all her life. 

“I don’t think I’m supposed to get into cars with strangers,” Nunnally said, just as sweetly as her brother. “Even if they know my name. Or is it— especially when they know my name, but I don’t know theirs?”

“If I haven’t already met and approved of them, the answer is no,” Lelouch confirmed for her.

“That makes it easy,” she said brightly, “do you know this person, Lelouch?”

“Never met her before in my life—” 

The window of the front passenger seat rolled down halfway, just enough for them to see Cornelia, looking extremely exasperated. 

“Get in,” she snapped at them. “And to think I was taking time out of my day to do a good deed.”

“You shouldn’t have tried,” Lelouch agreed congenially, which only made the suited woman tense, her whole body posture screaming discomfort and affront at the fact that he could speak so casually to the Second Princess of the Empire. Nunnally just smiled, knowing that if they had really been getting on each other’s nerves, they wouldn’t be speaking at all. Still, she nudged him slightly because she was here to try and make sure they got along, and Lelouch continued reluctantly, “...but thanks.”

Cornelia’s smile was barely there, fond, and she turned away just a moment after her eyes lingered curiously on Nunnally, but didn’t comment. Nunnally assumed she had been watching them for the past few minutes now, and whatever questions and shock she might have had at the beginning had worn off enough now that she wasn’t going to say anything. 

Not to mention, Nunnally really didn’t know the woman who was supposed to drive them back. 

They made their way into the shiny black vehicle, government standard if there ever was one, all the while with Lelouch grumbling quietly about just how showy it was and Suzaku taking the hospital wheelchair back to the front desk. Nunnally settled comfortably into the middle seat with just a little difficulty, but smiled warmly as she was squished in from both sides by Suzaku and Lelouch as the unknown woman got into the driver’s seat and spoke quietly with Cornelia. 

“I can’t believe you told them where we stay,” Lelouch grumbled to Cornelia, and this time the woman in the driver’s seat pretended not to hear him at all even as he eyed her wearily. 

“They’re my soldiers, and my knights,” Cornelia shot back, not so much as bothering to look toward the back seats, “and you could do with a little more trust in your life, Lelouch.”

“You’re not actually coming to school with us, are you,” he asked dryly, disgruntled, his tone more a statement of disapproval than a question. 

“Unfortunately for you,” Cornelia said, “I have a meeting with Ruben Ashford, so no, this whole thing isn’t entirely about you. But I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“With Mr. Ashford?” Nunnally asked, curiosity piqued. “About what?”

“If I’m to assume, then it’s likely about what you’re wearing right now,” Cornelia answered Nunnally, voice softening a bit as Lelouch scoffed and turned to look out the window, resting his chin in his palm. “As well as releasing medical history and what the two of you have been up to the past years.”

“You’re not our legal guardian,” Lelouch told her with a scowl. 

“No,” Cornelia agreed, “as it is, legally the Lamperouges are wards of the school and if there is no appointed legal guardian, then Lord Ashford is recognized as your caretaker. Which mean I’m to speak with him regarding the allowance for your knights to be enrolled and the special passes they are to be given in case of emergencies. That means I want a decision from you, Lelouch, or I’m going to be making one for you soon. Should you think your charge is threatened, Kururugi, none of the teachers will stop you from leaving classes or barging in.”

“Understood, Your Highness,” Suzaku replied succinctly. 

“It’d be easier if you were all on the same campus,” Cornelia said, tapping a finger on her thigh with a frown, “but I suppose that won’t matter next year, if you’re indeed staying at Ashford Academy.”

Nunnally looked carefully from her seat between Lelouch and Suzaku, noting her brother’s disapproval, even if he didn’t say anything, and Suzaku’s carefully blank expression. It was usually so easy for her to figure out what they were thinking, but right now everything felt like a blank to her, and she didn’t know what they thought of the arrangement at all, other than Lelouch’s promise that he approved, but his reluctance at being herded around due to Cornelia’s paranoia about her younger siblings being threatened. 

The ride was quick, and quiet for the most part as Nunnally attempted light hearted small talk about school, about the weather, and things like music and recent fashion trends— not subjects she was great at, but enough that she could draw the others into the conversations once or twice, especially as Cornelia seemed very interested still on learning of their upbringing. 

Sayoko was waiting for them on the campus grounds, standing patiently behind one of Nunnally’s wheelchairs, dressed once again as their nursemaid as she spoke quietly and demurely to Ruben Ashford, who was also waiting on them, the man’s demeanor just as sharp as ever. 

As the car stopped next to them and they exited, Sayoko bowed her head and greeted, “Welcome back, Master Lelouch. Mistress Nunnally.” Same as the others, she didn’t greet Suzaku by name, but instead gave him a warm smile which he returned. 

“Viceroy Cornelia,” Ruben greeted instead, a hand to his heart and a slight nod of his head that spoke of sophisticated courtly manners. He gestured with a hand along the path, “Shall we take our conversation to my office?”

He gave Lelouch and Nunnally a smile, one that the siblings returned even as Nunnally settled gratefully into her wheelchair, smoothing the skirts over the plastic frame around her legs. Sayoko made sure she was settled before she started pushing the wheelchair along, with Lelouch walking alongside them carefully and Suzaku on the other side, even as Cornelia and the unnamed knight went off with Ruban, Cornelia not bothering with a farewell. 

“Are you going to tell me about how you managed to walk me out of the hospital now?” Lelouch asked her lightly, less tense now that he wasn’t around strangers. 

“I told you a little bit of it before,” Nunnally said, “and the rest of it was me wanting to surprise you.”

“I was very surprised,” Lelouch agreed with a smile. “In a good way, I promise.”

“...I’ll show you,” Nunnally promised, because it was something she could share with her brother easily. Information that would interest him, and wouldn’t risk anything. She _wanted_ to tell him everything, but she could settle with telling him as much as possible first, especially since she already spilled the biggest of her secrets, entirely unintentionally, and then a series of small ones as the week went on. 

“It was amazing,” Suzaku told her, even as they made their way back to the clubhouse, with him holding the door open for them. “And I’m sure Lelouch is way happier with your surprise than Miss President’s.”

Next to her, Lelouch froze. “...What?”

Suzaku’s eyes widened and he winced a bit, bringing a hand to the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“...Whoops.”

Nunnally just laughed. 

— 

Nunnally woke up bright and early after a warm evening spending dinner with her brother and Suzaku, with the two of them going through the pictures on her phone with her, finally, and then describing in great detail (sometimes using their hands to gesture things out, which Nunnally hadn’t been able to witness before) all the little things they had wanted to show her, all the way back from the summer before the invasion. 

By the time she made her way down to the dining room after Sayoko woke her up, Milly was already waiting for the siblings, grinning and dressed in the black uniform indicative of Ashford students… Ashford male students. 

“He says he’s staying home sick today,” Nunnally said pleasantly in greeting, although it was difficult to hide her smile at the sight of Milly’s glee. Nunnally herself had borrowed Lelouch’s pants and dress shirt for the day, although she had to bargain with a boy in her class for his blazer in exchange for one of her jumper skirts. “Something life or death.”

“Oh, pish posh!” Milly brushed off, but did lean toward Nunnally to give her a hug good morning. “You look very cute, Nunnally!”

“Thank you,” Nunnally responded politely, “You look—” It was a little difficult to describe, since Milly seemed to have tailored the boys’ uniform to make room for her chest and be taken in at the waist, also making sure the uniform was far tighter than any of the boys would wear it. In true Milly fashion, somehow the plain black and gold uniform that covered from neck to wrist looked a little… risque on her. “You look good.”

It only made Milly laugh, and she jumped up, doing a little twirl to show off the outfit. “Do you like it? I was going to just switch with Lelouch, but he’s far too skinny for anyone to fit into his clothes. I even made sure to get his uniform for today tailored for him!”

“Oh, but he’s much too sick to go to school today,” Nunnally parroted rather blandly, although she bit down on her lip in a failing attempt to hide her smile. “He says he’s very sorry to miss your event, but—” 

And Milly was already off, steps light and laughter trailing behind her as she called out, “We can’t have the student council vice president miss something like this! Not to mention, the party after school is meant to be a welcome back for him, after all!”

Nunnally followed along in her wheelchair, laughing softly under her breath as she watched Milly pound on Lelouch’s door, yelling at him to wake up and that she was coming in, only to jiggle the doorknob uselessly for a moment before she huffed and turned to Nunnally, “Does he usually lock his door?”

“Not once,” Nunnally answered truthfully, because she didn’t either seeing as the two of them were very respectful of each other’s boundaries and it had never been an issue. They tended to knock and wait for an answer before entering each other’s rooms.

“Damn. He must have known I would be here this morning, then,” Milly murmured, tapping a finger to her chin in thought before brightening and saying loudly, “That’s fine! Grandfather gave me the master key, and I gave him ample warning! So if I go in and he’s still in bed, then we can just—” 

There was a thump from beyond the door and Lelouch called out, slightly muffled, “Don’t you dare, Milly!”

Milly grinned wide, hands on her hips even as Nunnally tried to hide her giggles behind her hands. The older blond girl pounded on the door once more for good measure, calling out, “You better change into the uniform I gave you, Lelouch! You have to set a good example for the rest fo the student body! The entire student council is required to participate in the events, you already know that!”

Lelouch’s voice was much closer to the door this time, although he still didn’t unlock it, “Pick better events! And I’m sick, I’m not going today!”

“No can do, Mr. Vice President,” Milly said, even as she waved at Nunnally to be quiet as she pulled out a set of keys from her pocket, “you can’t get away from me that easily— you can’t say you’re sick when you just got back from the hospital! I know all your medical history, anyway, I was there yesterday when Grandfather passed on that information to Princess Cornelia, you know, so I got to provide all the details from that time you caught rubella that summer last year of elementary school—” 

He pounded at the door from his side, “You did _not_ tell her that!”

By this time, Milly had already slipped the key into the lock and turned, and Nunnally was laughing loudly from where she sat, shaking in her wheelchair. 

“You better have that uniform on, Lelouch, or I’m going to go in there and put it on you myself, and _then_ that’s a story that Princess Cornelia is definitely going to enjoy hearing about—” Milly called out, “You really should have learned from the cat festival—” 

She managed to open the door a few inches before it slammed shut, presumably because Lelouch was leaning on the other side of it, yelling at her to stay out. 

Nunnally was almost out of breath from laughter, even as she scolded her brother lightly, “It’s just a uniform, Lelouch. Hasn’t Milly already done worse to you?”

“Yeah!” Milly called out from where she was (successfully) trying to push the door against him, “I’ve done so much worse!”

She was grinning at Nunnally, who was still rather breathless from laughter, and she got the sense that Milly might have been playing up the dramatics just to see her smile. It was a feeling that warmed her heart, although she gasped the moment that Lelouch managed to lose the fight against Milly, the door opening with a thump. 

“Ah-ha!” Milly declared victoriously, stepping into his room to find a seething Lelouch, who still looked sleep tousled and in his pajamas, a hand on his chest from where he was wheezing. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself, Lelouch, really, what would the doctors say?”

“And how is this my fault?” He griped, although he seemed to have already given up against her. He sighed, and then sat back on the edge of his bed, looking a sleepy tired. “Did you come here just to torment me?”

“Oh, not just,” Milly said breezily, “I also brought Arthur back, but this is a bonus.”

He gave her a bleary glare, one Nunnally thought adorable under his sleep-mussed hair, and she had to cover her smile with both hands. 

“Set a good example for your little sister!” Milly scolded him, a hand on her hip and the other getting in his face as she leaned down enough that he leaned away from her automatically. “Look at how cute Nunnally is! And she’s enjoying herself, so you shouldn’t be showing her that kind of face if you want to be a good role model! Not to mention, she can _see_ you glaring at other people now, so that’s got to stop too.”

“Oh, I always knew _that_ ,” Nunnally giggled. 

Milly turned to give her a fake look of affront, and turned back to Lelouch with a dramatic gasp. 

“What a bad big brother you’ve been,” she scolded, although the words were belied by the grin on her face. 

Lelouch rolled his eyes at her. “Get out.”

“Are you going to put the uniform on? Because if you need help with it, I’d be glad to help—” 

“Get out!”

Milly laughed, and Nunnally took that moment to interject sweetly, “Can you help me with my hair after, Lelouch? I don’t think I want to keep it down with this uniform.”

“Of course I will, Nunnally,” and his tone was automatically softer here, prompting Milly to complain about favoritism and how unfair it was even as she actually heeded his words and made her way out of his room, taking a hold of the back of Nunnally’s wheelchair to push her out as well and give Lelouch some time and privacy to change. 

“Did you really come over because you knew Lelouch would try to skip school today?” Nunnally asked Milly as the older girl pushed her out to the dining area, where Sayoko was waiting with a smile, the maid bowing slightly to the Ashford heir. Milly called out a cheerful greeting as well, and then seated herself down at the third breakfast placemat, usually placed in case Suzaku came over early these days, but now apparently stolen by Milly. 

“Of course he’d try to run from the festival he helped me budget, and the party meant to welcome him back,” Milly told her, practically radiating amusement. “He’s too predictable, honestly.”

“I don’t think he should be on his feet too much the first day after coming back from the hospital,” Nunnally said lightly, although she couldn’t help the warning tone in her voice. As much as she loved Milly and understood that the girl did all of this to make them happy, organizing a school-wide festival (never mind that it had been in the planning for weeks already) and then a party after school might be a bit taxing on her brother. 

“So protective,” Milly teased, not taking offense at all even as she leaned over the pat Nunnally’s cheek gently, fondly. “Don’t worry. I won’t make him dance too much! He’ll have a special seat of honor where he gets to reign over his party like royalty. That should make him happy, at least.”

The thought made Nunnally smile, although the imagery made her giggle. “...I don’t think he’d appreciate that in a dress, though.”

“Wouldn’t he? I had it made with him in mind, too!”

They chatted cheerfully as they ate breakfast, with Arthur darting between the table legs of the dining area and meowing for scraps, a sound Nunnally hadn’t realized was missing until now, when she remembered that Milly originally took Arthur more than a week ago because Nunnally had been ‘sick’ that very first day she arrived back in this timeline. 

She barely even noticed the mild sound that signalled someone’s arrival at the door, not until she heard Suzaku’s yelp as he encountered Arthur once again. 

“Good morning, Arthur’s-favorite-scratching-post!” Milly greeted Suzaku when he appeared in the dining room with the cat in his arms eagering attacking his hand. 

He was dressed in the pale yellow of the Ashford Academy girls’ high school uniform, complete with the ridiculously short black skirt and black knee socks, although it didn’t seem to bother or hinder his movements, and he didn’t seem as bothered by the uniform as the cat currently attacking him. 

“Aww,” Milly said, sounding a little disappointed, gesturing to his outfit. “You don’t look embarrassed at all.” 

“Should I be?” Suzaku asked them with amusement, attempting to detach Arthur from his hand with minimal success, the cat hissing and refusing to let go. “It’s more comfortable than the guys’ uniform, somehow.”

“You’re no fun,” Milly pouted, but then brightened a moment later, “but you do look good in that, Suzaku!”

It was true, Nunnally noted even as she looked away a second later, embarrassed and not sure why. His masculine form filled out the uniform in a straight line, yet the confidence he held while wearing the clothes might have been what made it look well-fitted and cool. Suzaku didn’t look in the least bit embarrassed to be seen in a skirt, unlike how Lelouch tried so hard to sneak his way out of it. 

“Thank you,” Suzaku told her, and then added, “and good morning, you two! Is Lelouch up yet?”

“He’s getting dressed,” Milly said with a shark-like grin, and then turned to present Nunnally to the boy. “Isn’t this the best idea ever? Look at Nunnally! Isn’t she adorable?”

“Very much so,” Suzaku agreed easily, taking a seat at the table as Sayoko came by with another plate of breakfast, giving him a warm smile and murmured greeting in Japanese, “Ahh, thank you, Sayoko- _san_.”

It was then that Lelouch finally emerged from the hallway, walking stiffly and uncomfortably and attempting to yank down at the black skirt, even though his legs were mostly covered by thigh high black stockings. He wasn’t scowling, but he certainly didn’t look happy about being pushed into the outfit. 

Milly leaned back in her seat to look around Nunnally, and gave an exaggerated coo, “Aww, look at Lulu— so cute!”

“I hate you,” Lelouch told her evenly, even as he took a seat and Milly cackled in response. “I hate this event. I hate this skirt— it’s impractical!”

“It’s breezy,” Suzaku said brightly. 

“It’s too short!” Lelouch complained. 

“You don’t say that when the girls are wearing it!” Milly said with a laugh, only to have Lelouch glare and interject with, “I _do_ say that.”

“It’s true, he does,” Nunnally confirmed, amused. Growing up in the royal family meant that the shortest skirts at court went to the knees, and that was usually for young girls. It was an old fashioned statement where women wore skirts that fell past their ankles, or pants when they needed the movement. The Ashford Academy mini-skirt was something Lelouch disliked, although he tended not to say that to anyone unless his opinion on it was specifically asked for. 

“It’s amazing,” Suzaku said, and continued before Lelouch could do much more than glare, “that so many people are participating. There were so many people exchanging uniforms yesterday… I thought there’d only be a few people who would do this.”

“Oh, participation is easy!” Milly said, “get enough people to do it, and eventually it gets accepted as the norm!”

“Crowd mentality,” Lelouch elaborated, reaching over for a plate of scones, “when the unusual becomes the majority, those who don’t follow become the outcasts. Because everyone is required to participate today, the only ones who get laughed at are those who don’t participate.”

“What he means is, I can control the masses,” Milly said proudly. 

“The queen of chaos,” Lelouch agreed blandly. 

Breakfast was over far too quick, with Nunnally abuzz with the warm glow of being surrounded by the people she loved, smiling wide until her face hurt from it all. Afterward, Lelouch sat down besides her to brush her hair, pulling it up into shortened twintails by wrapping her hair up in a circle around the hair ties and pinning it there so that her waist long hair barely managed to skim her shoulders by the end of it. 

“There,” he told her with a gentle smile, “all shortened.”

She reached to feel her hair, breath getting choked in her throat as she stared at the cute style in the hand mirror, feeling so very young, like a child again, as she stared at her own image. 

For years, Nunnally had been braiding and twisting her own hair, unwilling to let others touch it and unwilling to shorten it, her usual crown braid taking up most of her preparation time in the mornings. She chose hairstyles that were mature and elegant, trying to erase traces of her youth and inexperience through her appearance, and she would have never pulled her hair into a cute hairstyle like that. 

It was all too reminiscent of how Lelouch used to tie her hair. 

“Thank you,” she told him, voice unusually choked up, even as she lowered the mirror and reached to hug his arm, “I love it.”

He didn’t have the time to question her about her emotional response before Milly swept past them, yelling about being late if they didn’t hurry, and pulling Lelouch along with her. Suzaku was laughing by the door, and Sayoko was handing out little boxes with lunch in them, and Nunnally was— staring. 

Trying to immortalize this moment. 

“Oh,” she said, as they were grabbing their bags by the front door, and she pulled out her phone. Another for the collection, then. “Just a moment! I promised Euphie I’d send a picture!”

“Oh no, don’t send— ahh!” Lelouch squawked as Milly threw herself at his back, laughing and wrapping her arms around his neck, and Suzaku laughed at his other side, catching Lelouch’s school bag as he dropped it, the other arm out to steady Lelouch and Milly.

It was that moment Nunnally managed to snap a picture of, quickly sending it into the group chat with Euphemia and Cornelia. 

A minute later, the trio was off, with Nunnally waving bye from the door, and Sayoko gathering her bag and homework for her. 

“Should we get you ready for the day, then?” Sayoko asked her fondly, and Nunnally smiled up at the woman who had been taking care of them for years, and who was now doing so much more than anyone could ever have asked, just for them. 

“Yes,” she said warmly. “Thank you, Miss Sayoko.”

— 

School went by surprisingly quick that day, likely from all the excitement from the students who were laughing over their change in uniforms, girls taking group pictures and selfies while the guys flexed and joked in the pink jumper skirts, either trying to look the most feminine or masculine in it all at once. Their enthusiasm and amusement was contagious, and the mood seemed playful and happy enough that Nunnally even managed to wheedle Alice into several short conversations, the other girl sparing her a smile every once in a while. 

Nunnally didn’t completely understand why Alice seemed so aloof, but she was relieved to see that her friend’s cool attitude toward her was starting to thaw a bit. 

“Are you coming to the party after school?” she asked Alice as the other girl pushed her to classes, “you know you’re always invited, right?”

Alice’s visage seemed to soften a moment, and she nodded and started to say something, but was interrupted by several other girls who overheard and immediately rushed over to Nunnally. 

“What about us?” Another girl, usually quiet with her own group of friends who sat by the window, begged, “Can we go, too, then?”

“Uhh—” Nunnally blinked in confusion. “Yes? Of course?”

It was an open party, after all, as Milly’s parties usually were, but now that she thought about it, Nunnally hadn’t ever really interacted with her classmates at Milly’s parties, usually talking with some of the high school students, and mostly with the student council. 

“Hey, wait, can we go too?” Another of her classmates, this time a louder boy who usually sat in the back, asked. A group of other kids were listening closely. 

“Um… yes?”

“Only if you wear a dress!” The first girl told him, “and it has to be a nice one! It’s a party, after all!”

It devolved quickly into childish squabbles, and Nunnally excused herself from it with as much grace as she could muster, Alice pushing her away from the group of classmates arguing loudly with each other. 

“Don’t worry about them,” Alice told her, with more sympathy than she’s expressed the past several days, “they’re just excited. We never get big parties like that.”

She didn’t further confirm or deny her attendance, and Nunnally was too relieved that Alice was speaking with her again to ask. 

Both Lelouch and Suzaku came to pick her up after school, the two of them arguing easily over class assignments at the edge of the middle school campus while they waited, and Nunnally found many a classmate’s eager faces pressed against the window to see, the majority of them girls who whispered to each other in hushed, eager tones. It was enough that she felt embarrassed as class ended and she made her way down to them, only to see her brother smile warmly at her in greeting. 

“Let’s just go,” she told them, eager to get back to the high school campus.

Lelouch looked slightly alarmed. “...Did something happen?” he asked, even as Suzaku took over in pushing her wheelchair. 

Nunnally shook her head, and then flushed. “...Nothing. I guess I just didn’t realize how much they stared.”

Stared at _Lelouch_ , who, if she had to think about it, was very pretty to start with, although it was the way her classmates’ eyes seemed to glaze over that seemed to have her squirming uncomfortably, almost a little glad to have missed that tidbit the first time around. Seeing as the high school and middle school campuses were right next to each other and no one needed to step a single foot off school grounds, the boys were still in the event uniforms, Lelouch seemingly calmed down after adjusting the full school day. It was easy and amusing to think of the sheer amount of students with crushes on her brother, but a little distressing to actually witness it. 

“Are you ready for Milly’s party?” Suzaku asked her, breaking through the discomforting haze of her thoughts. Nunnally smiled up at him, glad for the respite. 

“I’m always ready.” She told them eagerly. 

“I bet Miss President has a really nice outfit for you,” Suzaku said with a smile, “to help you look like a fairy tale prince.”

“Oh, I told her not to,” Nunnally shrugged, and gave a shy smile, “we talked about it last week, and I said I don’t need one. I’m just going to borrow my brother’s clothes.”

Lelouch turned to give a look both fond and amused, and Nunnally grinned back in return. 

They made their way back to the student council room with minimal fuss, as if to make up for the chaos that was ready for them inside, with Milly standing tall and directing the other students around with a sword and full nobleman regalia and hat with a very large plume in it. 

She thrust her sword at them from across the room the moment the three entered, and declared, “You’re late! Although that can be excused if you two were picking up Nunnally, but there’s no time to waste! You have to get into your costumes!”

Kallen was standing next to her, looking disgruntled but somehow amused in her black and red boy’s uniform, the type that might have been popular in Japan before the invasion, a bit rough and tumble for her even though the look was displaced by the mild and gentle expression on her face. Nina was sitting at her usual spot, although with a nervous smile, hands clutching the plaid fabric of a costume that looked like it would have been a cute little boy outfit for Sherlock Holmes, although her braids certainly looked out of place. 

“Oh,” Lelouch said mildly, “if that’s the case, then Nunnally and I should head home first. Get her clothes.”

“Not so fast!” Milly exclaimed cheerfully, even as Shirley (in a police outfit) handed an amused Suzaku a bundle of clothes with a quiet laugh. “I took the liberty of grabbing clothes for her this morning already~ we need you here, Lelouch! With how long it’s taking for Rivalz to get changed, you’re going to need the extra time!”

“Rivalz,” Lelouch intoned politely, “has been adjusting balloons down his shirt all through class today. I can assure you I’ll be skipping that part.”

“Shame,” Milly told him in that very same tone before she grinned, “But I already knew that! The way the dress is tailored, you wouldn’t be able to fit balloons down there!”

Lelouch only gave a disgruntled sound in response, which made Milly laugh. 

“Aww,” Nunnally drawled teased, “that means I won’t get to go through his closet.”

“And what are you hiding in there that you can’t let your little sister go through your closet without supervision,” Milly aimed the question at Lelouch, giving an exaggerated curious look as she hummed and brought a hand to her face in mischief. 

“Clothes,” Lelouch answered dryly. “Not everything is as dramatic as you like to make it out to be, Miss President. Didn’t you go through my closet yourself this morning?”

“Well, that’s boring,” she said, but seemed to accept that answer easily. She moved to rest the flat of her sword against her shoulder then, and told them, “I thought maybe she’d be able to find something juicy that I wouldn’t be able to find, and then we’d get to see your reaction!”

It made Nina giggle even as she approached Lelouch with a large and fancy looking bag, holding it out to him with both hands while he sighed and thanked her quietly. Suzaku, on the other hand, looked more amused than peeved, holding up the clothes that Shirley handed him. 

“What is it with you guys and short skirts?” He asked fondly, even as Kallen gave Nunnally a stack of neatly folded clothes— Lelouch’s clothes, which Milly had apparently appropriated that morning while she came over. 

“We have to change first,” Shirley told Nunnally with a bright smile, although her tone sounded a bit dimmer than it did a week ago. “Since we’re organizing the party and all. To celebrate everything going back to normal! It’s been a very strange week without Nunna and Lulu.”

“So quiet,” Milly lamented dramatically, “I lost my favorite person to bother.”

“So find another,” Lelouch told her flatly.

“No can do,” she sing-songed back, “No take-backsies! I’m not a fickle woman.”

“You really are,” Lelouch protested, but was then quickly shushed as Milly cheerfully pushed him out of the student council room with his bag, insisting that he would need all the time he could get to get changed. 

“Here,” Shirley said, smile sweet as she crouched in front of Nunnally, “I’ll help you get changed.”

— 

She heard C.C.’s laugh before she was even close to the door, and Nunnally hesitated, recalling the past few encounters with the immortal woman. 

“It’s not that funny,” Lelouch’s voice snapped back at the laughter, sounding affronted even through the thick wood of the door. 

If anything, C.C.’s laughter grew in volume even as she choked out in uncharacteristic mirth, “You make a beautiful princess, _Lulu_. And to think, the fearsome Zero, leader of the Black Knights…” she snorted, and dissolved into giggles once again. 

There was an impact, and then the sound of C.C. yelping, presumably being shoved off whatever perch she was on by Lelouch. 

“What a way to treat a lady,” she teased, still snickering, “just where are those royal manners?”

“You’re no lady,” Lelouch told her dryly, “I thought you prided yourself on being a witch.”

“A witch who can leave at any moment,” C.C. said, and then there was a moment of silence that made Nunnally squirm in her wheelchair, feeling guilty about eavesdropping, but not enough to stop. “Isn’t that right?”

“If that’s your imperative,” Lelouch agreed. “Who am I to stop you?”

C.C. hummed, the mirth in her tone dulling down to faint amusement, “You’d let me go wherever I want, then?”

“Of course. You’re your own person, and I doubt anything I do could stop you. Although if you brought this up because of Mao, then you owe me some answers.”

“And maybe one day I might even give them to you,” C.C. said breezily, but then snickered again, “are you sure you can get all the buttons on the back?”

“Of all the— Milly did this on purpose, I know it. Where did she even get this dress? It’s not her size, she’d never fit into this. How am I even supposed to—?” 

“Stop squirming,” C.C. told him with more fondness than Nunnally had ever heard from her before, “I’ll do it. You’ll rip the fabric if you try to close it like that.”

“...You sound like you’ve done this before.”

“Who knows?” C.C. said with her usual breezy indifference, “Maybe I’m more familiar with court dresses than you’d imagine… I’m much older than I look.”

“So you’ve said.”

It was almost eerie to hear the cool fondness on C.C.’s voice when the woman had been so cold to Nunnally previously, and it made her feel a little guilty about not trying harder to win her over. Maybe she shouldn’t have worried too much about C.C.’s plans and motives if she and Lelouch were close enough to speak so informally like this. 

She made her way over to the door and knocked, glad that she managed to convince Shirley she didn’t need any help on this errand. The door was opened within moments, and Nunnally was greeted with C.C.’s bland expression. 

“Milly forgot to include this in the garment bag,” Nunnally explained innocently as she held up a package, “hello C.C.”

She could see her brother looking over from behind the green-haired woman, and then smiling at her. 

C.C.’s apathetic expression cracked a little into a faint smile as she looked down at the package, “...is that a wig?”

“Just extensions, I think? There’s even these little bows—” Nunnally couldn’t help her giggle as she took in the horrified expression on Lelouch’s face. She had to cover her mouth to hide the laughter as she took in the purple gown, far fancier than the other student council members’ costumes, fitted in a way to hide and draw attention away from any masculine features. “You look very beautiful, big brother!”

Lelouch flushed, “I… I’m not sure that’s something I ever wanted to hear from anyone, Nunnally.”

“Milly made a good choice,” she observed, and then asked, “And why not? You’re always beautiful.”

Next to her, C.C. snickered under her breath, the sound coming out like an ugly snort. 

“How cute.” she drawled, although a corner of her lips was sneaking upwards, “I suppose I’ll make my escape here, then. Can’t let myself get caught up in the festivities. Make sure to get the hair right, Lelouch, your friends put a lot of effort into this, it seems.”

She stepped back and then reached out to pat him on the cheek, even as Lelouch leaned away from her in exasperation. 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” C.C. said, and there was a note of nostalgia in her voice, “that you look so much like her.”

She left in a whirl of bright green hair before he could question her about that statement, and Nunnally blinked as she realized who C.C. was inferring to. It took only a moment to recall the portraits of Empress Marianne, and suddenly the whole thing wasn’t as cute as a moment ago. 

“...Maybe we really should skip this party,” Nunnally wondered aloud, suddenly worried. 

Her brother looked down at her, previous embarrassment already faded. “I thought you were looking forward to this?”

She was, but… looking at Lelouch now, the resemblance was— undeniable. Even if Nunnally couldn’t say why, because nothing of Lelouch’s frame and features was an exact copy of their mother’s, but there were so many small similarities that added up. Surely at least a handful of students would do a double-take, since while people might overlook the similarities between their names and the royal children who disappeared since there were just too many members of the royal family to keep track of, Lady Marianne always made a splash wherever she went. Even the common populace would know about her: the commoner Empress who had been assassinated. 

Even students their age should vaguely remember what she looked like. 

Lelouch must have noticed her worry, as he crouched in front of her chair with some difficulty in the dress, and gave her a small smile. “It’s going to be fine. It’s just a party, and not even the first time Milly pulled this off.”

Nunnally supposed that was true. Despite it being a larger party than last time around, the same thing must have happened the first time, and no one noticed. She just hadn’t _seen_ it last time. 

“Nothing needs to be adjusted?” Lelouch asked her, this time about her clothes, and Nunnally raised her hands in turn to show him how the cuffs of his jacket was falling over her fingers. She had to roll up the cuff of his pants as well, and the clothes were loose, but otherwise… 

“I like it like this,” she told him brightly.

“I’m sure I still have outfits from a few years ago,” he fussed, expression softening into wistfulness. “I can’t believe you fit into these already…”

“Well, we’re both still got room to grow,” she said, although it likely wouldn’t be very true with him anymore, given his age, and she hadn’t grown too much since this age, either. She wondered if it was because they inherited their mother’s petite bone structure, since most of those in the royal family seemed to grow— very tall indeed. “I can help you with your hair, and then Milly’s apparently expecting us at the party. I think we’re late already, but she said it was okay ‘cause you’re supposed to be fashionably late anyway.”

Lelouch gave an exaggerated sigh that made her smile, but then accepted fondly. "Fine, fine. Bask in my humiliation."

Nunnally only giggled as she helped him prepare for the party. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....I'm sorry for not getting to responses yet--I will! I love each and every review!! so this week the hubby told me to prepare for a tv marathon, and I sighed at him and said 'okay but I need to go back to writing at some point' and his response was ' _ at some point? _ but you're always writing! i've waited months to ask you this because of it!' and to my great shame, he is entirely correct. Apparently writing 230k+ words in under five months when I am a slow writer is. Taking away all the free time I usually spend with friends and family.   
>  This week I have written little as life caught up to me, making me busier than ever despite not being... busy at all (much needed cleaning, hung out with friends, attended a wedding, bleached my hair, intoduced myself to camp cabinmates and got to know them, looking through violin lessons, cooking with roommates, gunna help a friend move when he's finished painting, and my anniversary is next week) and while I still have this week to write chapter 17, it's not an absolute guarantee anymore because it's not actually already finished and waiting. A chapter a week was too ambitious, lol.   
>  ....on the plus side, there's about 35k of World Enough and Time waiting to be finished and released during April.


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